


Impossible

by TitansRule



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dantana, Drama, F/M, Flangell, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, On Haitus, Romance, Season/Series 02, episode tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 50,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TitansRule/pseuds/TitansRule
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica Angell was certain it was 2009 when she was shot, but that doesn't change the fact that she's woken in 2005. She's still got the gunshot wounds, there's nothing wrong with her head, and she was found clutching a photograph of herself with a certain detective she's supposedly never met. There's no logical reason why or how she's travelled through time, but she's determined to make the most of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> The whole 'time travel' thing is not and will not be the focus of this story - no explanation will be given or sought. The focus will be on Jess and how her knowledge of the future changes events.  
> The timeline sort of comes from my Kindred Spirits series, hence why the shooting happened on November 10th rather than May 20th, so ignore any discrepancies that might arise :)

_Jersey PD Officer Killed in Car Blaze_

Any headline involving the killing of a police officer was a bad one in Detective Don Flack’s opinion, but this was painfully tragic in the simple fact that it was an accident.

Officer Jessica Angell had, by all accounts, been a promising cop and didn’t deserve the fiery demise that had left her family with nothing but ashes to bury.

He folded the paper up and tossed it on to the small table in the hospital waiting room with a sigh, checking his watch as he did.

The woman he was visiting had been found unconscious outside of Angel of Mercy that morning by one of the nurses on her way in. Police had been called, but upon waking up, she had asked to speak to him personally, something which baffled everyone, since she had yet to give them her own name.

Finally the doctor left the room and gave him a nod and he stood up, entering the room with only a quiet knock to announce his arrival.

The woman lying there greeted him with a soft smile and there was something in her eyes that suggested they knew each other, but, although there was something familiar about her, he was sure they’d never met.

She was beautiful though; dark sparkling eyes, perfect features, soft brown hair that cascaded over her pillow like waves on a beach …

He shook himself mentally and held up his shield. “Ma’am, I’m Detective Flack; you wanted to talk to me?”

She nodded. “What date is it?”

“August 12th.” He answered. “2005.”

She sighed. “Okay, now I’m hopelessly confused.”

“You and me both.” Don muttered. “Why did you ask for me? Do we know each other?”

She smiled sadly. “Apparently not.”

Now it was Don’s turn to sigh, rubbing his temple in an attempt to offset the migraine he felt coming. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. What’s your name?”

“Jessica.” She answered. “Jessica Angell.”

Don frowned, the familiarity making sense. “Excuse me.” He ducked out of the room again, returning with the paper, glancing at the photo accompanying the article. “The Jersey cop who was just killed in an accident? That Jessica Angell?”

“What?” She took the paper from him, scanning the article, paling as she did. “What the hell?”

“Alright, I’m going to get the doctor.” Don decided, realising that she wasn’t lying; she honestly thought she was this woman. But there was no way she’d been in a car accident that severe; the injuries just didn’t match up.

“No!” She caught his hand. “Please, just hear me out. I swear I don’t know what’s going on here.” Her voice softened. “Don, please.”

Something in her voice convinced him to sit down. “Alright. Go on.”

“I did work as a uni for Jersey PD.” ‘Jessica’ told him. “But I was never in any accident. In 2006, I became a third grade homicide detective at NYPD; we were partners. November 10th 2009, I was accompanying a witness to court … there was a kidnapping. I was shot.” She pulled the collar of her gown aside to reveal a wound on her left shoulder and then pulled the blankets down to reveal an even worse one on her stomach.

Don touched the one on her shoulder carefully. “That’s a fresh wound. I haven’t heard any reports of gunfire …”

“It hasn’t happened yet.” She sighed. “I came to in the hospital; I couldn’t move, or speak, or see, but I could hear you and one of the CSIs … you thought I was dead … I was so scared I’d be buried alive or something …”

Her voice caught and he couldn’t help taking her hand and squeezing it gently. “Take your time.”

She took a shaky breath. “I blacked out again and then I woke up here. I could tell something wasn’t right; they didn’t know who I was and you’d been there before, so it didn’t make sense, so …”

“So you asked for me.” Don finished, unable to help the note of speculation that entered his voice.

She nodded. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

Don thought about his response carefully. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just … this is impossible; you’re saying you’ve gone back in time. That can’t be done.”

She nodded resignedly. “Get someone to take my DNA if you like. It’ll match, I swear.”

“Okay, I’ll get one of the CSIs to come in.” Don assured her. The door opened and he glanced up to see the doctor beckoning to him. “Hang on.”

The doctor waited until the door closed before speaking. “She’s suffering from four gunshot wounds.”

“Four?” Don repeated.

“Yes.” The doctor nodded. “We thought it was two. Two are through-and-through, in her shoulder and stomach. But she was shot twice more in the stomach; the bullets were removed surgically.”

“But not here?” Don guessed. “Was it a professional job?”

“I’d say so.” He confirmed. “The stitches were definitely what I would expect from a hospital. The wounds are clean; no sign of infection.”

Don sighed. “Doctor, she’s claiming to have fallen back in time; is there anything …?”

“No sign of brain damage or head trauma.” The doctor held up an envelope. “We did find this clutched in her hand though, when she was found.”

Don took the envelope and opened it to find a photograph. He stared at it for a few seconds, hardly able to believe what he was seeing, before walking back into the room. “Where did you get this?”

“I think you gave it to me.” ‘Jessica’ told him. “Before I passed out again in the hospital. It was taken about three months ago … well, at that time, anyway.”

Don didn’t dispute it this time. In the photo, his own face grinned up at him, his arms around the woman he was talking to, the woman he was sure he’d never met. He flipped the photo over and found a message on the back, written in his own handwriting:

_I’m sorry, Detective; I tried. I love you, Jess._

“What does it say?” She asked curiously.

For a second, Don considered lying, but then he remembered the heartbroken look in her eyes when she realised he had no idea who she was and handed her the photo.

She gazed at the words for a few seconds, a soft smile crossing her face, a solitary tear making its way down her cheek, and he felt an ache form in his chest at the sight.

“Jessica …” Don sighed. “I’m gonna call Jersey PD; tell them that you got thrown clear from the car and woke up with amnesia.” He smiled at her. “And then see if we can’t get you transferred to NYPD early.”

“You can just call me Jess, you know; everyone does. Well, you called me Jessica sometimes, but only when …” Jess looked up, trailing off. “You believe me?”

“I know my own handwriting.” Don told her quietly. “I can’t remember telling any woman that before.” He took in her expression. “I never told you either, did I?”

Jess shook her head, dropping her gaze again. “I never said it either.”

“My point is,” Don continued, not dwelling on the awkwardness that revelation could cause, “I never thought I’d say that … or write it. So I must have changed quite a bit when I met you and …” He trailed off, not sure how to vocalise the thoughts flying around his head. “I guess I’d like the chance to find out why.”

Jess smiled at him. “What makes you think it’s anything I did?”

Don laughed. “Trust me; it was something you did.”

Jess sniggered. “Yeah, it probably was.” The smile faded from her face and she looked serious once more. “Seriously; how is this gonna work? I’ve got insider information here. You name a victim; I can tell you who did it.”

“As long as you can tell us where the evidence is.” Don’s mind was racing. “We’ll have to tell the CSIs you know what’s going on.”

“Right.” Jess nodded in agreement. “It’s gonna be weird not seeing Lindsay as a mom.” She added almost as an afterthought.

Don frowned. “Lindsay? Who’s Lindsay?”

“CSI.” Jess raised an eyebrow. “Lindsay Monroe?”

“There are only two female CSIs, Jess.” Don told her. “Stella Bonasera and Aiden Burn.”

Jess gasped suddenly, horror filling her eyes. “Aiden! Don, you’ve got to stop her!”

“Stop her from what?” Don asked, perplexed.

“She’ll start working this case right around now – that Pratt guy – and there won’t be enough evidence and she won’t let it go and she’ll get herself fired …”

Automatically, he reached out to comfort her, but her next words caused him to freeze, ice seeming to flood through his veins.

“I mean, I never met her, but no one deserves that; Don, he’s gonna kill her!”


	2. Summer in the City

_“I mean, I never met her, but no one deserves that; Don, he’s gonna kill her!”_

Don stared at her for a few seconds. “What?”

“He’s gonna kill her.” Jess repeated, her voice breaking. “He attacked a friend of hers twice. She’ll keep working the case on her own time and he’ll lure her into an alley and … and beat her to death. You have to stop her.”

This time, he didn’t hesitate to comfort her, wrapping an arm around her. “We’ll stop her, Jess. We have to.”

She nodded into his shoulder, forcing the brunt of her tears to stay back, because they had nothing to do with Aiden and everything to do with the aching hole in her chest.

Although it was Don holding her now, things would never be the same again. And she wasn’t sure she could cope with that.

But then again, maybe things weren’t as different as she thought; he pulled away, brushing the hair from her face. “You miss them, don’t you?”

Jess nodded, avoiding his gaze again. “I know it sounds stupid …”

“You said we were partners?” Don prompted.

“And best friends.” Jess couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed face. “You knew me better than anyone.”

“And vice versa, I bet.” Don murmured.

Jess nodded. “I’m sorry, by the way. About your brother. I never really got a chance to tell you that.”

“I told you about Mikey?” Don asked.

“Not what happened.” Jess elaborated. “Just that you were 19 when he …” She cut herself off abruptly. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“No.” Don caught her hand as she pulled away. “I’ve never even told Danny that … But I told you.”

“Yeah …” Jess shrugged. “We were talking about your sister and you’d mentioned a brother before so I asked.”

Don gazed at her for a second before saying, “I really need to get you that transfer.”

“Why?” Jess asked curiously, not that she minded at all.

“Because there’s something about you, Jessica Angell,” Don told her softly, “and I want to know what it is.”

***

“You’re falling for a crazy woman.” Danny Messer stated confidently.

Don rolled his eyes. “Jess is not crazy.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And I’m not falling for her.”

“Yeah, you are, Flack.” Aiden Burn disagreed. “There’s no way you’d be buying this story otherwise.”

“Well, I don’t know about the falling part,” Dr. Hawkes spoke up, cutting off Don’s comeback, “but she’s definitely crazy.”

Don sighed. “Danny, how many siblings do I have?”

“Two.” Danny answered, sounding perplexed. “Samantha’s a bartender and you never talk about your brother.”

“Right.” Don nodded. “And yet Jess knows what happened to him. I know I never told her …”

“Okay.” Mac Taylor held up a hand. “Just stop, all of you. At the end of the day, time-travel is impossible.”

“Theoretically, travelling _forward_ in time might be possible.” Hawkes corrected. “But backwards is …”

“Impossible, ludicrous and just a bit unbelievable.” A female voice finished. “Just like my story. But I swear I’m telling the truth.”

Don turned to smile at newly-appointed Detective Angell, who leaned against the entrance to the conference room, looking tired.

It had taken her several hours to convince her parents and Captain Gerard that she wasn’t crazy and would be more help in New York, but she had managed it. This wasn’t going to be so easy.

“Hey Jess.” Don pulled out the chair next to him and she sank into it. “Guys, this is Detective Jessica Angell; Jess, this is …”

“Mac Taylor, Stella Bonasera, Danny Messer, Aiden Burn, Sheldon Hawkes.” Jess finished for him, nodding to each one. “I know.”

“Right.” Don turned back to them. “She’s not crazy. Aiden, does the name Pratt ring any bells?”

Aiden nodded. “DJ Pratt. He raped my friend, Regina; she couldn’t go through with testimony and he was acquitted. Why?”

“He’s gonna attack her again.” Jess stated quietly. “Just don’t let it get to you this time.”

“Get to me?” Aiden repeated. “Why …?”

“And you should really call your brother, Danny.” Jess added, not meeting his eyes. “1991 was a long time ago.”

“How did you know that?” Danny asked quietly.

“Don told me.” Jess answered.

“I never told him.” Danny shot a confused look across the table at his friend, who shrugged.

“That’s because he doesn’t know yet.” Jess finally looked up. “That kid in the back of the car … they shot him.”

“Who pulled the trigger?” Mac asked immediately.

“I don’t know.” Jess admitted. “And I don’t know where he is. You’ll get a tip-off and the DNA at the crime scene will implicate Danny. It was Louie who cleared him. Not us. You.” She corrected. “I didn’t work here yet. Except I will be …” She groaned, letting her head fall into her hands. “My head hurts.”

Stella reached across the table and touched her arm lightly. “Detective Angell … I know this is gonna sound strange, but … do you happen to know anything about my mother?”

“She was a restoration artist. Worked for a Greek museum.” Jess lifted her head. “Came here with an exhibit when you were two; was killed in a car accident shortly after. I’m afraid I don’t really know anymore than that.” She hesitated. “Just that Professor P isn’t 100% one of the good guys. And you might wanna do something about that painting in your office; there’s a museum looking for it.”

“I believe her.” Stella told the others.

“Me too.” Danny seconded.

Mac nodded. “Alright. As impossible as this is, apparently, you’re right. You’ve travelled back in time.”

“And stuck here.” Jess added quietly, before plastering a bright smile on her face. “We might as well take advantage of it.”

“The captain’s gonna give case info to Jess first.” Don explained. “If she remembers it, either she’ll take it or I will.”

“None of the other detectives know.” Jess explained. “And I’d rather we keep it that way.”

“I don’t blame you.” Aiden commented. “But why don’t you want me to let it get to me? You didn’t see her the first time!”

“Because, if you do, it’s gonna kill you.” Jess whispered.

***

Within a week or so, Jess had forgotten her warning to Aiden; no one had asked her to elaborate and they’d been called out on another case almost immediately.

“Jess, you know anything about a climber falling from a skyscraper?” Don called, catching up to her at the crime lab.

Jess sighed, shaking her head. “Don, you’d know if I did. I read about it in the papers, but other than that …”

“Jess!” Aiden called from one of the labs. “You got a minute?”

“Sure.” Jess doubled back. “What’s up?”

“You were right.” Aiden sighed heavily. “Son of a bitch raped her again. I can’t let this go, Jess; I can’t.”

“You have to.” Jess stated firmly. “I’m not watching them go through that again, Aiden. Let someone else take the case; it’s a conflict of interest anyway …” She choked back tears, remembering Don’s mostly alcohol-induced description of the murder. “Please, Aiden; don’t let him win.”

“Aiden …” Mac trailed off, seeing Aiden’s stricken expression and Jess’s tear-stained one; he hesitated, but only for a second. “You wanted to see me?”

“I want …” Aiden faltered. “I want you to keep me away from the Pratt case, Mac. Jess is right; it’s gonna kill me.”

Mac smiled at her. “I think that’s a good decision, Aiden. I’ll clear up this skyscraper case and then I’ll take over, okay? I wanna make sure we get him this time.”

“Thanks, Mac.” Aiden glanced at Jess and nodded towards the hallway. “So what’s happening with our case?”

“The diamond our vic choked on was a fake.” Jess reported. “Danny and Stella went to pick up the lingerie model’s bodyguard … something to do with the trace on the vic’s shirt.”

“But there’s no way he stole the diamond.” Aiden commented. “If our vic didn’t even know it was stolen, how did he? And thank you.”

“For what?” Jess asked.

“I don’t think exhaustion or frustration was COD when you said it was gonna kill me.” Aiden stated calmly. “I think you just saved my life.”


	3. Grand Murder at Central Station

Aiden stuck to her decision and refused to go near the DJ Pratt case, focusing instead on being a pillar of support for Regina. She was currently working a case with Don, Mac and Hawkes that involved a plastic surgeon being attacked with …

“Lye?” Jess repeated.

“Yeah.” Don confirmed. “Anything?”

Jess shook her head. “Sorry, you never told me about that one.”

“Dammit.” Don sighed. “I got three people suing him for ruining their faces, all of whom have alibis. How is it not them?” He shook his head. “What you got?”

“Blind woman strangled on top of a building she didn’t live in.” Jess pulled a face. “How can anyone be that callous?”

“One of the first things you learn about this city …” Don began.

“Anyone can do anything to anybody.” Jess recited with a smile. “Yeah, you told me that.”

Don opened his mouth to disagree, but then chuckled. “Of course I did.” He cocked his head to the side, observing her. “What is it?”

Jess shook her head. “Nothing.” She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “It’s just … I knew there was something different about you and it was driving me crazy figuring out what it is.”

“I’m younger?” Don guessed.

“No, your hair.” Jess told him. “It’s longer than I remember.”

Don ran a hand through it. “That a bad thing?”

“No.” Jess let a seductive smirk work its way onto her face. “No, it’s not a bad thing.”

“Huh, I’ll … I’ll remember that.” Don leaned against the wall. “How the hell do you do that?”

“Do what?” Jess asked innocently.

“You know exactly what.” Don accused quietly.

Jess chuckled and leaned in closer. “Remember, Detective, I’ve known you three years longer than you’ve known me.” She murmured. “I know every single way of getting to you.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” Don muttered. The phrase was painfully familiar and it must have shown in her eyes, because he nodded over her shoulder, hastily changing the subject. “Who’s that with Stella?”

Jess turned in that direction. “I don’t know. She said she was gonna get an artist in to look at one of Evelyn’s unfinished sculptures, but …”

“That’s not a professional relationship.” Don murmured. “How she’s looking at him … think that could be the elusive boyfriend?”

“I don’t know.” Jess narrowed her eyes, a sick feeling flooding through her. “But I’m going to find out.” Pasting an innocent expression on her face, she jogged over to the office. “Stella! Sorry, I didn’t realise you had company.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Stella muttered. “Frankie, this is Detective Angell. Jess, Frankie Mala. He’s going to finish off the sculpture for us; see if we can’t figure out who it is.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jess shook his offered hand. “Stel, the Braille expert just got here.”

“Thanks.” Stella smiled at Frankie. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for this.”

“Sure.”

Jess let Stella lead her away from her office. “Be careful.”

“Why?” Stella asked.

Jess sighed. “I’m not sure. But I know I’ve heard his name before and it wasn’t in connection to anything good.”

Stella glanced back over her shoulder. “Are you sure?”

Jess nodded. “I mean, I might be wrong. It could just have been that you broke up and Don was always rather protective of you and Li … the others. He just really didn’t like him.” She silently chided herself for slipping and she knew that Stella had caught it. “So what are we expecting this letter to say?”

“Depends who wrote it.” Stella waited until they’d entered the empty elevator and the doors had closed before confronting her. “What were you going to say?”

“Lindsay.” Jess answered. “She was a friend of mine. A good friend.”

“Why don’t you try and find her?” Stella suggested.

Jess chuckled wryly. “I would if I had the slightest idea how to introduce myself. There’s no reason for us to meet this time.”

The doors opened at this moment and the two women strode out into the corridor.

“Detective Angell!” Mac called from his office. “Can I have a moment?”

“You okay without me?” Jess checked.

“Yeah, go ahead.” Stella assured her.

Jess doubled back, slipping through the door before it could swing shut. “What’s up?”

“Well, since NYPD got an extra detective, the lab’s been given the go-ahead to hire another CSI.” Mac told her, indicating a stack of files on his desk. “I was just wondering if you recognise any of the names.”

“Why do you think I would?” Jess asked curiously, pulling the pile onto her lap and opening the top one. The name was unfamiliar and she returned it to its place.

“Call it a hunch.” Mac told her. “You act perfectly comfortable around everyone except Aiden, like you haven’t known her as long.”

“You’re good.” Jess didn’t go into details, flicking through the folders, praying that the name she was hoping for would appear. _Come on …_

She’d almost given up hope; she opened the last file, not expecting it to be the one she wanted, but, no – a smile spread across her face.

 _Lindsay Monroe_.

“This one.” She announced. “Lindsay Monroe. Bozeman PD, Montana.”

“Really?” Mac sounded surprised. “I’ve seen some of her work, but I’m surprised you picked her out.”

“She was one of my best friends.” Jess whispered. “I miss her.”

Mac smiled at her. “I’d better make that call then.”

“I …” Jess stood up, rounded the desk and gave him a hug. “Thank you.” She straightened out and stopped just short of skipping out of the office, almost running into Don on the way.

“What …?” Don cut himself off and shrugged at Mac. “I’ll ask her later.”

***

That evening, Jess stood outside Don’s apartment, knocking quietly. She had overheard his vow earlier and, since her case was cleared up faster than his, she’d headed over.

When Don opened the door, he looked surprised. “Hey. How’d you get in?”

“The security code hasn’t changed.” Jess smiled. “Your spare key’s in the same place as well, but I figured I’d better knock … in case you had company.”

“Jess, I never bring women back here.” Don told her quietly. “Except for you, apparently. Come in.”

“You wanted to ask me something earlier.” Jess prompted, taking a seat on his couch.

“I was just wondering what put that smile on your face.” Don grinned at her. “What did Mac tell you?”

“There’s another CSI coming.” Jess explained. “From Montana. We’re … We were friends. Mac asked me to check the files he had; see if I recognised anyone.”

“And this is good?” Don guessed.

“Of course.” Jess smirked. “And not just for me.”

“Uh oh.” Don eyed her worriedly. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing. I just miss her, that’s all. And Lucy.” Jess added as an afterthought.

“Lucy?” Don questioned.

“Damn.” Jess muttered. “You won’t say anything, will you? I don’t wanna change this too much.”

“My lips are sealed.” Don promised. “Who’s Lucy?”

“Her daughter.” Jess answered a little reluctantly. “At least, she was.”

Don chuckled. “You’re getting Mac to ship in a CSI from Montana because you’re getting broody?”

“I am not!” Jess protested, swatting his arm. “Lindsay was one of my best friends.” Her earlier discomfort returned. “And, speaking of friends, I’m worried about Stella.”

“The boyfriend?” Don asked darkly, catching her hand as it drew back and tugging her closer.

Jess sank into his offered embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. “Yeah. I just wish I knew why. I guessed you didn’t like him and …” She closed her eyes, groaning as a memory came back to her. “That’s who she was talking about.”

“Who?” Don prompted when she didn’t elaborate.

“About a year before I was shot,” Jess began, “Stella was attacked in the course of an investigation. She was obviously a bit shaken up over the whole thing when I talked to her and she said that she hadn’t let anyone get the better of her like that since … and then she changed the subject.”

“If she is talking about him,” Don growled, “I will make his life living hell. What happened to that attacker?”

“He ended up dead.” Jess answered. “Stel and I set up an undercover sting – the whole thing turned into a serial-killer-slash-antique-smuggling-ring bust. You were not happy.”

“Why not?” Don asked curiously.

Jess shrugged. “We were disobeying orders, we were taking risks, we were toeing the line, I was setting myself up as a client and potential victim … take your pick. That’s the only real argument I remember us having.” She added quietly.

“Who won?”

Jess didn’t need to look up to see the smirk on his face. “Both of us. You promised to drop it and I promised to be careful.”

“Sounds like neither of us won in that case.” Don commented.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Jess smirked, remembering what had happened afterwards.

“Was it weird?” Don asked then.

“What, falling back in time?” Jess rolled her eyes. “Fairly, yes.”

“No, going from friends to … something more.” Don elaborated.

“Not as much as I thought it would be.” Jess answered slowly. “It was like we’d been dating anyway, we just hadn’t been …” She trailed off, feeling her face begin to heat up. “I do find it a bit weird that we’re talking about this.”

“You said we were best friends.” Don reminded her. “I’d like to be that for you again, even if anything else takes time.”

“Okay.” Jess straightened up, turning to face him. “If we’re going to have a frank and open discussion, I have to point out that you’re implying that we _could_ be something else.”

“Well, frankly and openly,” Don grinned, “you’re stunning and, if you were any other girl, we wouldn’t be talking right now.” His smile softened. “But you deserve more than that and, right now, I don’t know if I can give that to you. I don’t believe in love at first sight – physical attraction, yeah, but love takes time. So just give me time to work out what I’m feeling, okay? The last thing I wanna do is hurt you.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek lightly.

Jess smiled at him. “Baby steps then.”

“Right.” Don confirmed. “I was gonna order pizza; you in?”

“Sure.” Jess stretched, realising how hungry she was. “Double pepperoni, extra cheese.”

Don chuckled. “Girl after my own heart. You wanna stick a movie in while I’m doing that?”

Standing up, Jess ran her eye along the row of DVDs, noticing the missing titles and realising that, of course, they hadn’t been released yet. She selected a comedy and slipped it in, just as Don hung up.

“Haven’t seen this one yet.” He commented. “But you have?”

“A lot happens in four years.” Jess smirked.

“I guess so.” Don agreed quietly. “So this new CSI …”

“Lindsay.” Jess filled in.

“Assuming nothing changes on that front, do we know the father?” Don asked.

“Uh huh.” Jess didn’t elaborate, letting him pull her close again.

“And?” Don prompted.

Jess sniggered. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”


	4. Zoo York

Jess should have been at the carousel in Central Park, where Stella, Hawkes and Aiden were processing their own scene, but, instead, she was leaning on her car outside the crime lab, waiting somewhat impatiently.

Finally, a cab pulled up and a familiar woman got out, leaning through the window to pay the driver.

As soon as the taxi drove away, Jess pushed away from her car. “Lindsay Monroe?”

Lindsay turned to face her, looking confused. “Yes?”

Jess smiled at her. “Jessica Angell, homicide. Detective Taylor got called to a crime scene; since I’m heading that way, I figured I’d give you a ride.”

Lindsay breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks! I knew New York was bigger than Bozeman, but you can’t really fathom it until you’re here!”

Jess laughed. “I know what you mean and I only moved from Jersey.” She knew that someone would explain her situation to Lindsay, so moved on to pointing out various places as they drove to the zoo.

“So what’s the situation here?” Lindsay asked as they passed the security outside.

“Dead man in the tiger pit.” Jess answered. “Don’t know anymore than that. Quick head’s up: Mac doesn’t like being called sir, no matter what Danny tells you. Hey, Flack.”

“Jess. You must be Lindsay.” Don greeted. “Don Flack; whatever Jess has told you about me, she’s lying.”

“Don, I have better things to do than tell the new girl stories about you, especially when I could be warning her about certain other people.” Jess put a hand on Lindsay’s shoulder. “If he or Danny start bothering you, just call and I’ll straighten them out.”

“That a threat or a promise?” Don grinned.

“Watch it, Detective.” Jess rolled her eyes. “Mac’s over there with the tiger; I’ve gotta get over to the carousel; I got a dead debutante.”

“I thought Aiden said it was a runaway bride.” Don frowned.

Jess shook her head. “Nope, definitely a debutante. See you later.”

“See you.” Lindsay turned to Don. “How’d she know?”

Don sighed. “Well, that’s a long story …”

***

“Where you been, Angell?” Aiden asked, photographing the victim.

“Dropping Lindsay off at the zoo.” Jess answered.

Aiden looked up immediately. “Did you warn her …?”

“About Danny?” Jess nodded. “Done.”

Aiden sighed. “Good. Wouldn’t want her to go through what I did.”

“Any wedding parties missing a bride?” Stella asked, straightening up from behind one of the horses.

“She’s not a bride.” Jess shook her head. “You told me about this one; she’s a debutante. And your explanation was a little crazy, but I got something about spider venom and a mom, but I don’t think it was hers.” She smiled sheepishly at the three confused expressions. “I’ll know who it is when I meet them.”

Hawkes examined the victim. “Angell’s right; no marks on her fingers indicating wedding rings, so she’s not a bride. But what’s a debutante?”

“Someone who attends a debutante ball, which is the presentation of a young lady into higher society.” Jess rolled her eyes. “My mother was incredibly disappointed that I never qualified. As if I’d want to.”

Aiden shook her head. “I never did get the point of that. What you got, Stel?”

Stella held it up. “Looks like a button, but it didn’t come from her dress. Jess?”

“Sorry.” Jess smiled. “You didn’t say much about it.”

“You’re sure it was spider venom?” Stella asked. “There aren’t many venomous spiders in this part of the country.”

“Didn’t come from the spider.” Hawkes gently turned the girl’s head. “Inflammation on the side of her neck; entry point for a hypodermic needle.”

***

Jess couldn’t help feeling slightly sick as a couple of uniformed officers led Tanya Danville into Arraignment in cuffs. Of course, she’d known as soon as the woman had come swooping into the morgue with Brianna Freemont’s sister that she was responsible, but her reasoning behind it left her cold.

“Angell.”

Jess started, realising that she’d been standing in the middle of the precinct lobby for five minutes. “Hey Lindsay. You can call me Jess, you know. Everyone does.”

Lindsay fiddled with a loose thread on her shirt. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Jess nodded towards the street. “Out there or in here?”

“Out there’s fine.” Lindsay mumbled.

“Okay.” Jess led her out of the precinct and they walked down the street to the park, stopping at the first bench.

A sense of déjà vu descended on her for a second and she half-expected to turn around to see Lindsay five months pregnant again, assuring her that Don was just distracted by IA and clearly she was as well, because she’d just zoned out and imagined that she’d been shot and …

But that didn’t happen.

“So what’s up?” Jess prompted, shaking those thoughts from her head.

“Erm … Detective Flack told me your story.” Lindsay began tentatively.

“Don’t believe it?” Jess guessed with a smile.

“No, I believe it.” Lindsay assured her. “I was wondering if you know about … about …”

Jess’s smile softened. “About Montana? Your friends?”

Lindsay nodded, closing her eyes.

“You told me …” Jess hesitated, wondering if she should tell her. “When you went back to testify, you called me and told me.”

“Testify?” Lindsay’s eyes flew open. “They caught him?”

“Yeah, I don’t know his name,” Jess admitted, “but I know he went down for life. Just … do me favour and don’t shut us out this time?”

Lindsay returned her smile shakily. “I’ll try not to.”


	5. Corporate Warriors

It was definitely a strange sight, but neither Lindsay nor Jess commented on that, exchanging a silent glance that said more than any words could.

Their victim sat on a bench in the park, hands in his lap, his eyes closed, the only sign of death the blood soaking his collar and the flies beginning to gather around him.

“He have anything interesting to say?” Mac asked.

“His name’s Jared Stanton.” Jess answered, checking her notes. “Lives at 73rd and Park. Now, before you ask, I’m at a loss, but, in my opinion, this isn’t a body dump. He was left where he died.”

Mac nodded in agreement. “No sign of disturbance and the flies appear to have been here a while.”

“I think time of death was at some time in the pre-dawn hours.” Lindsay added.

Mac circled the bench, coming to stand behind the victim. “So Jared Stanton walks into the park, sits down and offers no resistance when he’s killed.”

Lindsay took another picture. “I know, it doesn’t make any sense.”

Mac frowned at the body. “Don’t quote me on this, ladies, but sometimes,” he took hold of the man’s head and lifted, revealing a clean cut through the neck, “not everything’s connected.”

***

“Tell me I told you about this case.”

Jess stopped in her tracks, just in time to avoid running into Don, who had suddenly appeared in front of her. “What case? Sorry, Don; I’ve got two dead bodies and a killer who’s a cross between Spiderman and Jackie Chan.”

“Well, I got a ten-year-old kid who died in an arson attack.” Don stated.

“Oh God …” Jess murmured, taking the photo he had from him. “I’m so sorry, Don; you never told me about this one. I wish you had.”

Don sighed, his arms falling to his sides. “Yeah, me too. S’not your fault, Jess. Spiderman?”

Jess chuckled wryly. “Yeah, an eyewitness saw one of our vics going at it with some guy in a pool hall; swore they were in the middle of a martial arts fight and one of them ran up the wall, pushed off the ceiling and carried on.”

“And how much had that witness had to drink?” Don asked.

“A lot.” Jess admitted. “But Stella and Danny pulled a footprint off the ceiling.”

“Alright, you’ve got the weirder case this time.” Don conceded.

“It gets better.” Jess told him. “Our other victim was beheaded and didn’t move an inch. His head was placed back on his body.” She sighed. “I think you’ve got the worse case though. What kind of sick bastard sets fire to an apartment when a child’s home alone? I assume he was alone?” She added.

Don nodded. “Mom had to work.”

“Poor woman.” Jess murmured. “I hope she’s staying with someone.”

“Yeah, her boyfriend.”

Jess frowned thoughtfully. “Don’t take this as law, Flack, because you never mentioned a kid …”

“What?” Don prompted when she trailed off. “Jess, tell me you have something.”

“I might have something.” Jess traced the child’s face with a finger. “You told me once about a man who set fire to his girlfriend’s apartment because he wanted her to move in with him. It was only in passing though and, like I said, you never mentioned a child. I think I had a spousal murder and you said something about people doing strange things for love.”

“Only problem is, arson isn’t that uncommon.” Don sighed, taking the picture back.

“No.” Jess agreed. “But it’s a process of elimination. You remember that case?”

Don shook his head. “Why?”

“Well, even before we were partners, I usually knew what your case involved and you knew what mine did.” Jess explained. “Which means it happened before I started at NYPD. And if you don’t remember the case, it means it happened between now and next July.”

“That’s still just under a year.” Don reminded her.

“I know.” Jess nodded. “But, like you said, arsons aren’t that uncommon, so something must have made this one stick in your memory. I don’t think the motive alone would be enough; it would have to be something big. Something like …”

“Something like a ten-year-old kid dying as a result.” Don completed her thought. “Thanks, Jess.”

***

“It’s an insult to point the spout at your guest.” Lindsay turned the teapot round and left the office, Jess jogging after her.

“He did that on purpose!” Jess whispered, once the door closed behind them.

“He’s hiding something.” Lindsay stated in response.

“Yeah.” Jess agreed quietly. “I know. Just wish I knew what.”

“You remember when we first met?” Lindsay asked suddenly. “You told me not to shut ‘us’ out this time. You don’t just mean you?”

“Linds, last time, I got here a year after you.” Jess explained quietly. “I was the last person I was expecting you to let in, but you did. Like I said, you called me from Montana. I mean everyone. Stella and Danny in particular – they were really worried.”

“Danny?” Lindsay asked. “Danny Messer? You know something I don’t? He seems intent on making my life hell.”

“I think you’re exaggerating a little bit.” Jess told her. “If it’s really bothering you, tell him and he’ll stop.”

“You think?” Lindsay sounded doubtful. “Don’t you think that’ll just make it worse?”

“Danny’s not acting like this because he doesn’t like you.” Jess smirked. “It’s the CSI equivalent of pulling a girl’s pigtails on the playground.”

“You know something I don’t?” Lindsay guessed.

“I know a lot of things you don’t.” Jess reminded her. “But I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Jess …” Lindsay began.

“No.” Jess shook her head. “I will not be swayed on this, Lindsay. There are some things I want to change, but this is one of those things I’m leaving alone.”

Lindsay smirked. “Well, that tells me all I need to know.”

***

It had been one of those cases where the most obvious suspect turned out to be the murderer, which didn’t happen very often, but it meant that Jess could go home knowing another murderer was behind bars and confident that a conviction would be reached.

But when she got home, her plans for a quiet night in changed abruptly, because Don was sitting in the hallway outside her apartment.

“You were right.” He told her quietly. “That boy died because his mom’s boyfriend couldn’t take no for an answer.”

“C’mon.” Jess offered him a hand to his feet. “You look like you could use a drink.”

“This another one of your future traditions?” Don asked knowingly.

Jess grinned at him. “Well, I do make a good Irish coffee.”


	6. Dancing with the Fishes

“I’m just sayin’ I don’t get why I have to go; it’s her boss’s kid’s Bar Mitzvah. What’s it gotta do with me?”

Jess glanced up, holding a hanky over her mouth and nose to block the pungent smell of fish from affecting her any more than it already had. “It’s a deal-breaker, Messer.”

“I will never understand women.” Danny proclaimed, setting his kit down. “It don’t make sense. Who do we have?”

“Hey, you don’t gotta convince me.” Jess muttered. “Still a John Doe for now. Without an ID, before you ask, I can’t link him to any case you might have mentioned.”

“But?” Hawkes prompted.

Jess smiled wryly. “How’d you know there was a ‘but’?”

“There always is.” Hawkes grinned. “Go on.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the victim stinks of fish.” Jess began.

“Actually, Angell, I hadn’t noticed.” Danny interrupted, photographing the body. “Fish? Really?”

“Shut it, Messer.” Jess warned. “ _As_ I was saying, you did mention a guy once who was stabbed with a swordfish.”

“A swordfish?” Danny repeated.

Hawkes carefully pulled the victim’s shirt up to examine the wound. “Well, the smell does seem to be coming from the hole in his chest and it is an unusual shape. Not to mention the bill of a swordfish would be more than sharp enough to do this. Did you have a name?”

Jess shook her head. “No, it was just in passing. You know, weird cases.”

“Well, they don’t get much weirder than that.” Danny commented.

“Oh, I dunno.” Jess shook her head. “There was a couple that I wasn’t sure if you and Flack were pulling my leg over.”

“Us?” Danny asked, before sniggering. “Yeah, sounds like something we’d do.”

Jess smirked. “Basically, I might be right; I might be wrong.” Her phone beeped and she pulled it out, seeing a new message on the screen.

_We nd 2 tlk. My place @ 7? D_

Jess bit her lip, sending a reply confirming it. They were never good words.

***

By now, it was rare for Jess to stop outside Don’s door and knock, since she knew where the key was, but she did this evening.

Don let her in. “You don’t normally knock.”

Jess shrugged. “I like to keep you on your toes. You know, even when two people aren’t dating, the words ‘we need to talk’ can be rather ominous.”

“Well, I actually wanted to talk about that.” Don admitted, leading her over to the couch. “You remember that conversation we had about not wanting to start something until I know for sure what I’m feeling?”

“Yeah.” Jess agreed slowly, feeling her heart start racing in spite of her better intentions.

“I still don’t know what I’m feeling.” Don admitted. “I know you’re important to me and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll make me blush.” Jess warned with a smile. “I know all that too; what’s the problem?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we don’t think twice about …” Don paused “… touching each other, I suppose.”

Jess knew what he meant. Even as they’d been talking, he’d absently begun playing with the strands of hair that had fallen out of her tie and over her shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I don’t have a problem with it.”

As if suddenly noticing what he was doing, Don dropped his hand from her shoulder. “I’m just worried about ….”

“Leading me on?” Jess finished gently. “Hurting me? You remember I told you that us hooking up wasn’t weird? It was because we were already so close. We’d even slept in the same bed before without thinking about it.”

“Okay.” Don slipped an arm around her and pulled her closer. “So you’re alright with this?”

“Very alright.” Jess confirmed with a smile as he kissed her forehead. “How was your case?”

Don pulled a face. “A woman faked being abused by her husband so her brother would kill him and she’d get his pension. Young girl caught the tram unexpectedly and was pushed out the window.”

“Great.” Jess muttered sarcastically. “Poor girl. I mean, I feel sorry for him as well, but talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Lindsay figured it out.” Don told her. “Realised the widow’s black eye was too black.”

Jess grinned proudly. “Sounds like her.”

“What about yours?” Don asked.

“Oh, you’re gonna love this one.” Jess told him. “Owner of a restaurant helped his fish supplier out by writing a recommendation to help his son get into the most prestigious kindergarten in New York. Fred’s son – the fish guy – got in; his didn’t. So he shoved Fred into a swordfish and …”

“Fred’s dead.” Don finished. “A swordfish?”

“A swordfish.” Jess confirmed.

Don sighed. “God help me, this city gets stranger by the day.”


	7. Youngblood

“Jess!”

Slowing her pace, Jess turned to face Don, who was sprinting after her. “What’s up?”

“You hear about this case?” Don asked breathlessly, handing her the file.

Jess flipped through it. “Shotgun blast, missing weapon, no casings, shallow penetration, missing witness …” She pulled a face. “What self-respecting young girl would want anything to do with him?”

“You never had a crush on a teacher?” Don teased.

Jess sniggered. “Well, yeah, but he was only about ten years older than me.”

“How’d you know …?” Don began.

“Lindsay mentioned the case.” Jess answered. “Didn’t tell me who did it or the weapon, but she mentioned that he had a fondness for young girls. I think it’s creepy, personally.” Her phone beeped and she glanced at it. “Sorry; I gotta go.”

Don nodded. “Sure.”

Jess hurried through the lab and found Stella and Aiden in layout. “What’s up?”

“I don’t suppose anyone mentioned this, did they?” Stella asked. “Because we’re at a loss.”

Jess sighed. “Like I said in the park, I don’t think so. He drown?”

“No. Unrelated asphyxiation.” Aiden handed her the autopsy report. “But we’ve got no idea who he is and where to start. According to his socks, shoes and a key on a string, we’re looking at …”

“A homeless guy who probably lived in Central Park.” Jess finished.

“Right.” Stella agreed. “But his clothes and the watch he was wearing suggest he’s a wealthy guy.”

“Sounds like Jekyll and Hyde.” Jess commented. “The question is, which one was killed?”

***

To say that Jess was pissed off was an understatement.

She had always hated dealing with rich people, but the two children – she couldn’t call them men – in front of her were the worst.

And now she had their parents in the lobby, waiting for to explain why their little angels had been arrested. She led them into a family room, summing them up in a second; all four were dressed in expensive clothes, too expensive for a trip to the precinct, and she could almost hear the blustering, “Do you know who I _am_?!” that was sure to appear at some point.

“I’m Detective Angell; how can I help you?”

“You can start,” Ben Lowell’s father began darkly, “by telling us why our sons have been arrested.”

“A couple of months ago, your sons met a young man named Richard Collins.” Jess began.

“Never heard of him.” Nigel Ballantyne’s mother said snootily

“Maybe you knew him as Wesley Harding.” Jess suggested. “Your sons realised he was pretending to be someone he wasn’t, probably so he could fit in … they decided to teach him a lesson – I have an eyewitness,” she continued, raising her voice over their protests, “that says they dumped lobster in his food when they were out for a meal despite knowing that he was allergic to seafood. They followed him and watched him die, then tied him to a railing and sank him in the pond in Central Park.”

The two women were shaking their heads tearfully and the fight seemed to have gone out of the men altogether.

“Did they have lawyers?” Nigel’s father asked finally.

“Turned them down.” Jess answered bluntly. “Seem to think Richard got what he deserved because he was trying to be something he wasn’t.”

“What will they be charged with?” Ben’s father asked next. “They didn’t mean to kill him, surely …”

“If they’d realised what they’d done and called 911, we’d be charging them with manslaughter.” Jess shook her head. “But they didn’t. They followed him. He spent his last minutes on this earth being taunted for being different. They didn’t even attempt to help him and then tried to hide any evidence they’d done wrong. We’re charging both of them with murder two.”

She didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the conversation, knowing out of experience what would be said; they’d get a lawyer, who would negotiate down to manslaughter.

They knew that already; that was why they were charging murder two in the first place.

Jess wrapped up the talk quickly, knowing she’d end up saying something she’d regret, probably some form of ‘how the hell do you raise your kids to believe _that_ is a good reason for hurting someone in any way?!’

Then she finished her paperwork and went home quickly, so she couldn’t be called back in. When she got back to her apartment, she opened her door to be met with a familiar smell.

“Lasagne?”

“How’d you know?” Don called from the kitchen.

“There are some things you don’t forget.” Jess grinned, hanging her jacket up. “The smell of your cooking is one of them. How’d you get in?”

“You keep your spare key in an obvious place.” Don answered.

“It’s the same place as you keep yours.” Jess pointed out, getting them both a drink.

“Exactly.” Don nodded. “You’re wondering why I’m here.”

“Little bit.” Jess shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I’m kinda used to it.”

“Of course.” Don kissed her cheek. “Good day?”

“Wasn’t the best.” Jess raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you had a good day, though.”

“I earned my paycheck today.” Don stated proudly.

Jess laughed. “Don’t you always?”

“Ask me what happened.” Don prompted, grinning broadly.

“You figured out the weapon?” Jess guessed.

“No, Danny and Lindsay did; steering-wheel lock.” Don corrected, smile not slipping. “Now ask me.”

Jess sighed. “What happened?”

“Not only did we catch a murderer, but me and my boys recovered quite a haul on a drug raid.” Don told her happily.

Jess looked up sharply. “How much?”

“100kg.” Don answered.

Jess breathed a sigh of relief, before smiling. “Nice one.”

“Thanks.” Don regarded her for a few minutes. “You seem relieved.”

“You know me too well.” Jess countered. “Let’s just say we had a problem with a dirty cop.”

“You accusing one of my boys of skimming from the stash?” Don asked.

“Not this time.” Jess said, more cheerfully than she felt.

“Jess …” Don began.

“Don’t.” Jess cut him off wearily. “Can you just trust me on this and do me a favour? Dealer was a black male, 5’9. You found several glocks on the kitchen table and 50kg of black cocaine. I know for certain that Truby and Greenburg were both with you; not sure about anyone else. If you don’t find the drugs personally, promise me that you’ll ask the dealer how much he had.”

“You just said it was 50kg, Jess.” Don reminded her.

“There was 53kg there, Don.” Jess sighed. “The rest ended up on the body of a dead paintballer six months later when he stumbled on a drug deal involving one of our boys.”

Don shook his head. “No.”

“Don, I’m sorry.” Jess slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest. “I’d be the last one to rain on your parade, but I saw how badly it hurt you having to take him down … I don’t want to watch you go through that again. Promise me that you’ll ask.”

There was a pause, and then he returned her embrace, pressing his lips to her forehead tenderly. “I promise, Jess.”


	8. Manhattan Manhunt I

“Lindsay, you okay?” Jess asked quietly.

“Fine.” Lindsay answered bluntly.

The two had originally been called to the Endicott residence, only for Mac to send Lindsay back to the lab and, sensing a deeper reason than the one he gave, Jess had gone with her.

“No, you’re not.” Jess disagreed. “I didn’t tell Mac about what happened, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

“No.” Lindsay sighed. “Sorry, Jess; this has nothing to do with you. I promise. I know Mac probably knows about them, but … Dammit, this is why I wanted out of Bozeman in the first place! I’m sick and tired of people treating me like I’m about to fall apart because …”

“What do we got, Montana?” Danny asked, tapping on the door as he entered.

Jess winced. One of the things that hadn’t changed was Danny’s pet-name for his partner, but _that_ was not good timing.

“Danny, _stop calling me that_!” Lindsay snapped. “It’s Lindsay.”

“A’right, a’right.” Danny grinned at her. “I’m just joking.”

“Well, it’s not funny!” Lindsay told him. “Am I supposed to be the new girl _and_ the butt of all your jokes?”

“You upset that Mac dismissed you?” Danny asked.

“I can handle it.” Lindsay muttered.

“C’mon, it’s not about that.” Danny nudged her shoulder with his. “He was just lookin’ out for you; you saw that place – it was a slaughterhouse in there.”

 _Uh oh. Bad move, Messer._ Jess began mentally measuring the distance to the door, wondering if she could get out of there without either of them noticing.

“You think I haven’t seen blood like that before?” Lindsay asked.

“I dunno, tell you the truth.” Danny shrugged. “Have you?”

Lindsay glanced at Jess, who nodded encouragingly. “Yes. And a lot worse than that. My … My best friends were murdered when I was 14. I was in the bathroom.”

“Lindsay …” Lost for words, Danny squeezed her hand softly. “If there’s anything …”

“It was a long time ago.” Lindsay told him. “I don’t want to be treated differently.”

“A’right.” Danny gave her a crooked smile. “I’m still callin’ you Montana though.”

“Pick your battles.” Jess advised. “He never stopped the first time either.”

Lindsay frowned, but they could both see a traitorous smile lurking around her mouth. “Fine. But if anyone else starts calling me that, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair enough.” Danny chuckled. “What do you got?”

***

“Mac, you know I respect your judgement as a friend and a colleague.” Horatio stated. “But how is Detective Angell, who wasn’t even in New York when Henry Darius first killed, going to help us?”

“You’ll see,” was all Mac responded with.

They didn’t have to wait much longer for the door to the conference room to open and Jess stopped, looking over her shoulder into the corridor. “I’ll tell you if I think of something else Flack. Mac, before you say anything, Henry Darius and Alexa Endicott were …” She trailed off. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”

“Hang on, Jess.” Mac gestured for her to come in and shut the door. “Horatio, this is Detective Jessica Angell; Angell, this is Lieutenant Horatio Caine, from Miami.”

“Pleasure.” Jess shook his hand. “Does he know …?”

“Not yet.” Mac answered. “Jessica … how can I put this? She’s a time-traveller.”

Horatio just looked at him. “I see.”

“I know, it sounds crazy.” Jess sighed. “And I really don’t know how much help I can be, seeing as I wasn’t around for this part, but Detective Flack did tell me some things that I’m hoping can help.”

“Go on.” Mac prompted.

“Henry Darius and Alexa Endicott were brother and sister through their father.” Jess told them calmly. “Her younger sister – is it Sarah? She took the money from the safe, split it with … I don’t know her name … she worked for a doctor … Oh, and Henry Darius didn’t kill the woman he claimed to; he just wanted to get to Miami.” She knew immediately that the newcomer didn’t completely believe her, but Mac immediately pulled his phone out and called the DNA lab.

“Jane, can you run Alexa Endicott’s DNA against CODIS?” Mac held up a hand to stop either of them interrupting. “Henry Darius. Thanks.” He hung up. “She’s right.”

“How …?” Horatio began.

Jess shook her head. “I don’t know. One minute it was 2009, the next it was 2005.”

“Jess!” Don called from the hallway. “Need you!”

Jess shrugged with a sheepish grin. “God knows what he’d do without me. If there’s nothing else …?”

“Go on.” Mac told her. “You remember anything …”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Jess promised, already halfway out the door. “What’s up, Don?”

“We got a lead.” Don told her. “Dr. Miles Feldstein; prescribed medication for Alexa Endicott and declared Darius fit for trial. Ring any bells?”

“Could be the doctor you told me about.” Jess commented. “But …” She slowed her steps, suddenly remembering something. When Don had told her about Henry Darius, Suspect X had just vanished from their radar and it had been a part-anger-, part-alcohol-induced rant about serial killers in general.

Jess had really just nodded along, but his occasional mentions of Darius had been sporadic and random and interspersed with mentions of Alexa’s younger sister, who had, in a way, been indirectly responsible for her sister’s death. Looking at it now, Jess felt that he had been a little unfair; she wouldn’t have been surprised if Darius had shot Alexa anyway.

But what had suddenly stuck out in her memory was his description of how close they came to catching Henry Darius several days earlier.

And it was this description that stuck in her head as they drove to the doctors’ office, the details of the memory evading her, like a half-remembered line of a song that she just couldn’t put a title too. His secretary, Stacey Meyers – a woman Jess took an immediate dislike to – protested against their entry, but Mac and Aiden ignored her, walking in regardless.

Jess caught Don’s eye and nodded; the woman was definitely who Sarah split the money with. But there was something else getting to her and she could almost hear his voice as she caught hold of the memory that was taunting her.

_“Son of a bitch threatened a window washer into giving up his overalls and going down; I came this close to shooting him, Angell. We chased him down to the ground and Darius got away from the roof.”_

Realisation hit her with a sickening thud, but, before she could warn them, Mac shouted and he and Don took off. Jess didn’t hesitate, going in the opposite direction and taking the stairs up to the roof, gun in her hand.

She emerged into sunlight, to find Darius halfway to the fire escape on the opposite side of the building. “NYPD freeze!”

To her surprise, Darius did, halting in mid-step.

“Turn around; keep your hands where I can see ‘em.” Jess called, approaching him slowly. She knew she was taking a big risk, but she’d heard Aiden call after her and hoped that the CSI had caught on and followed.

Even if she hadn’t, there was no way Jess could let this man walk away.

As she drew nearer, however, she realised there was something very, very wrong.

Henry Darius was 5’9.

This man was about 5’6.

And, if the fear in his eyes was any indication, totally innocent.

A soft footfall behind her caught her attention and she spun around, just in time to dodge the knife slashing towards her, obviously with the intention of slitting her throat.

His next strike was luckier and her piece flew from her hand, skittering across the rooftop.

Now she was unarmed and all she could do was grab his wrist as he thrust the knife towards her again, grappling to keep the blade from penetrating her chest.

Apparently, she was wrong about her back-up and she couldn’t help laughing inwardly at the irony.

_Two serial killers. I’m used as freakin’ bait to catch two different serial killers and it’s one completely unrelated that’s gonna finish me off._

She could hear the man she’d misidentified as Henry Darius yelling for help and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes – _Isn’t there anything more useful he could be doing? –_ focusing her energy on keeping herself alive as the two of them stumbled across the tarmac.

It was at that point that Darius surprised her, suddenly changing the direction of his knife; her wrist cracked, causing a cry of pain as the bone fractured and the blade sank into her side.

Then, in the next second, the rooftop beneath her seemed to have disappeared and another scream left her, echoing in the wind, because that last shove had thrown her off the edge of the building and now all she could do was fall.


	9. Manhattan Manhunt II

With nothing else she could do, Jess screamed, but, suddenly, there was a jolt and she stopped falling, a hand tight around her uninjured wrist.

The man she’d originally assumed was Darius had managed to catch hold of her, but she could see the strain in his face and there was nothing she could use as a foothold to help him.

A gunshot rang through the air and Jess closed her eyes, sure that the bullet had been for her rescuer, but his grip didn’t change and, in the next moment, Aiden’s face appeared next to his.

Together, they were able to haul Jess back up to the rooftop and she collapsed next to them, wincing at the pain in her side.

“She’s been stabbed.” Aiden murmured. “Here, press down hard.” She directed their companion’s hands to the wound in Jess’s left side and grabbed her gun again, sprinting back to cover Darius, who lay on the ground about twenty feet away, pulling out her radio as she did. “Flack, we need you on the roof.”

“You alright, Detective?”

Jess attempted a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Been better. Sorry about earlier.”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I think that was kinda his plan. I’m Sam, by the way.”

The door to the roof flew open again before she could respond. “Jess!”

“Uh oh.” Jess muttered as noise filled the area. “That’s my partner. He’s not gonna be happy.”

“Jess!” In a second, Don was at her side, pulling Sam’s hand away to examine the wound. “It looks like a flesh wound. What in God’s name were you thinking?! No, don’t answer that – you obviously weren’t …”

As much as Jess hated it when Don was mad at her – and she did hate it – she couldn’t stay awake long enough for him to lecture her about her recklessness.

Clearly, Don noticed, because he covered her injury again and grasped her hand in his, squeezing tightly. “Don’t you pass out on me, Detective.”

“’M fine.” Jess murmured. “Later you can … yell at me all you want … promise …”

As her eyes closed, she heard him sigh and his hand tightened around hers. “I will. Don’t worry.”

***

Given the day’s events, Jess wasn’t surprised when Don insisted on picking her up from the hospital, but she wasn’t expecting him to drive straight back to his apartment. She didn’t argue, though, knowing that they needed to work through what happened before it affected their work.

Without a word, Don locked the car and led her up to his apartment. She sat down on his couch, and watched as he stalked into his kitchen, rooting through a cupboard. “What are you looking for?” She asked eventually.

Don slammed the door shut. “I don’t even know. What the _hell_ were you thinking?!”

Jess couldn’t help flinching and he must have seen it, because he sighed.

“Don’t make me feel guilty, Jessica; you scared the hell outta me today. What did the doctors say?”

“Knife didn’t go in that deep and missed anything vital.” Jess said quietly, her gazed fixed on her lap. “And my left wrist is sprained … Lucky, really; I thought it was broken.”

Don approached her, but she didn’t look up, until he knelt in front of her. “Jess … You get why I’m upset, right?”

Jess couldn’t help chuckling. “Yeah. I just hate it when you’re mad at me. Always have.”

“Why?” Don asked.

Jess shrugged. “Didn’t happen very often, I guess. It was normally because I’d done something that scared you and I didn’t like doing that; it was disappointment more than anger and I could deal with you when you were pissed at me; I could deal with you yelling at me, but I never could deal with the disappointment in your eyes.”

“Not disappointment.” Don cupped her face and tilted it upwards, forcing her to meet his eyes.

Jess wanted to look away. The look in his eyes was fear, mixed in with pain, and she couldn’t fight the thought that this was what he must have looked like in the hospital after she was shot, only 100 times worse, and she couldn’t fight the tears that welled up in her eyes. “Don …”

“No.” Don’s other hand moved to the other side of her face, preventing her from averting her gaze. “No. Look at me, Jess.”

“I can’t.” Jess whispered.

“I need you to understand me.” Don told her quietly. “I’m _not_ disappointed and the only person I’m mad at is myself; I should have followed you. I just assumed that you and Aiden had it covered. Then you screamed and … I didn’t know if it was you or Aiden; just that someone was hurt. And my heart stopped, Jess; it really did. Whoever it was.”

Jess smiled weakly, a tear escaping her eyes. “I know. I need a friend right now. Today scared the hell outta me too.”

Don kissed her forehead and pulled her into a hug. “I’m not surprised.” He sighed softly, resting his chin on her forehead. “I thought I’d lost you for a minute out there.”

Jess felt her heart skip a beat and forced herself to calm down, but something must’ve changed in her body language, because he sighed again.

“Jess …”

“It’s okay.” She whispered. “Once, we got a ‘shots fired’ call to a suspect’s apartment, possible officer involved. I was closest, pulled up outside and realised it was your case. I swear my heart dropped into my stomach.”

“How long had we been together?” Don asked quietly.

Jess tilted her head back to smile weakly up at him. “We weren’t. It was about two months after I got to New York.”

Don chuckled. “Is this your way of saying ‘don’t worry about being sentimental; it’s the adrenaline’?”

“Something like that.” Jess agreed. “I know you’ll tell me yourself when it’s time; you don’t have to worry about me jumping to conclusions.”

“Good.” Don murmured, pulling her back into his arms. “In that case, I’ll just sit here for a little bit longer.”

Jess buried her face in his chest. “Works for me.” She muttered, finally losing her battle with tears and falling into silent sobs.

Don didn’t say anything, tightening his arms around her, his shirt soaking up her tears, and they stayed there in silence.

Several hours later, Aiden turned up at Don’s apartment door, wondering why Don hadn’t returned to work.

When her knocks received no answer, Aiden carefully slid the spare key from the top of the frame and quietly unlocked the door, swinging it open.

The apartment was dark, lit only by the lights of the city streaming through the window, and, for a moment, she wondered whether Don had been home at all.

But then she caught sight of the scene that met her and a smile appeared on her face, a smile that swiftly turned into a smirk as she pulled her phone out.

She focused carefully and snapped a few pictures: Don and Jess had fallen asleep on his couch.

Now, Aiden was no stranger to situations like that. She’d lost count of the number of times a bad case had led to a comforting hug from Flack or Danny, which, in turn, had led to drifting off on the couch.

But that was different. She usually woke with one of their arms around her shoulder, the other trailing on the floor, and wondering how she’d slept through the God-awful racket of their snoring.

In contrast, Don’s arms were wrapped so tightly around his partner it was almost impossible to tell where one started and the other finished, his body turned slightly, cradling her protectively between him and the sofa’s back.

Saving the pictures on her phone for later mileage, she found a blanket in Don’s closet and threw it over them, before pulling the blinds closed and leaving a quick note telling him she’d been by.

She didn’t have the heart to wake them up.


	10. Bad Beat

It wasn’t unusual for their movie nights to be interrupted by one of them getting called out to a crime scene, but that was usually followed by both detectives getting in separate cars, one going home and the other to the crime scene.

So Jess knew she’d confused Don when she jumped into the squad car with him, but the words ‘shotgun’, ‘peephole’ and ‘poker’ had caught her attention.

Don didn’t question her until they were on their way. “You know, you’re not on this case.”

“I know.” Jess shrugged. “I just got a feeling that you told me about this one. Or maybe Lindsay did. Either way, I won’t know until I get there.”

When they reached the crime scene, Jess realised that her suspicions were correct; the man lying just inside his apartment with his face blown off definitely qualified.

She stayed at Don’s side as they moved along the hallway, knocking on doors.

“Did you hear anything unusual last night, sir?”

“No. Did something happen?”

“Yeah, a man was shot down the hall.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard that.”

“Did you report it?”

“No. Why?”

“Good evening, ma’am; I’m …”

“Do you know what time it is?”

“I’m very sorry, ma’am; I’m …”

“I asked you a question.”

“Do I know what time it is? Yes, ma’am, I do; it’s … 3.23 am.”

“You people are crazy.”

By the time they reached the last door, Jess was grinning. “I always wondered why you hated this job; I never have this problem.”

“Then, by all means, be my guest.” Don offered, gesturing to the door.

Jess knocked and waited for it to open.

The occupant was an overweight man in a very small pair of underpants, scratching his chest.

“Never mind.” Jess pulled the door closed again. “Is there any way to psychologically un-see something?”

“I wish.” Don sighed. “So what’s the verdict?”

Jess pulled a face. She’d been hoping that one of the neighbours could jog her memory.

Unfortunately, although the case was weird enough or bad enough for Don to mention it to her, it wasn’t unusual enough to stick in her mind and she couldn’t for the life of her remember what the outcome was, and she told him as much.

Don sighed again. “So, basically, you coming here was a complete waste of time?”

Jess shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Is there anything you can tell us?” Stella prompted.

Jess frowned in thought. “I don’t think it’s who you think it is. And …” She hesitated. “Hang on.”

“Jess?” Don called after her as she headed back to the elevator.

Jess wasn’t surprised when he slipped in after her and just pressed the button for the next floor.

“What’s up?” Don asked.

“I don’t know.” Jess admitted. “I’m just sure it has something to do with this floor.”

Unlike the eighth floor, the ninth was quiet and empty as they stepped out onto it and Jess tried not to notice the smirk on Don’s face.

“I’m sure I’m right.” She murmured, more to herself than to her partner.

“You were bound to get something wrong eventually, sweetheart; you’re only human.”

Jess stopped scanning the hallway for any reason they should be up there to look at him, wondering if the term of endearment was intentional or if it had just slipped out as it had in the past/future; if it had been intentional, there was nothing in his expression to suggest it.

Jess sighed. “I guess you’re right.” She turned back to the elevator and stopped, a smile spreading across her face. “Hey, Detective. Is that blood or am I imagining things?”

Don joined her in peering at the button. “It’s blood.”

Jess turned her attention to the carpet and found what she was looking for; blood outside one of the apartments.

“Someone took a hit.” Don commented. “Can’t be our poker cheater; why would he come up to this floor?”

“He wouldn’t.” Jess answered. “But check out the apartment number. 9C.”

“Our dead guy was shot in 8C.” Don commented. “You don’t think …?”

“Only one way to find out.” Jess knocked on the door and waited.

It opened to reveal a woman her age with chestnut-coloured hair, looking exhausted. “Yes?”

“Good evening, ma’am.” Jess checked her watch. “Morning, now, I suppose. I’m Detective Angell, this is Detective Flack; we’re with NYPD, homicide division …”

“Homicide?” She interrupted. “What happened?”

“A man was shot in the apartment below yours.” Jess told her. “Did you hear anything?”

“I didn’t …” She turned back into the apartment. “Scott!”

Her boyfriend appeared behind her, looking equally weary. “What?”

“A man was shot below us.” She told him shakily. “You hear anything?”

Scott shook his head. “No.”

“Did either of you see anything yesterday afternoon?” Jess prompted. “Anything suspicious? Anyone? The smallest thing could be helpful.”

“What about that guy in the elevator, Heather?” Scott asked.

“Oh, that was nothing …” Heather began to protest.

“What guy?” Don asked.

Heather sighed. “He followed us into the elevator; he was obviously drunk and stunk of marijuana. He kept brushing up against me, touching my hair … He followed us out and we just rushed into the apartment.”

“No, I think something else happened.” Jess disagreed. “There’s fresh blood on the floor outside your apartment.”

“Blood?” Heather repeated. “I don’t know …”

“I do.” Scott cut in heavily. “After I rushed Heather into the apartment, I asked him to leave. He made some comment about nobody scaring him anymore and it looked like he was gonna start something, so I punched him and closed the door. What does this have to do with the guy downstairs?”

“Probably nothing.” Jess admitted. “Thanks for your help.”

“Sure.”

The door closed politely but firmly behind them and Jess turned to Don. “He was drunk, stoned and humiliated …”

“Went back to his apartment to get his gun.” Don glanced at the elevator buttons. “Went up. And when he came back down …”

“He got the floor number wrong.” Jess finished. “I bet if Stella and Mac test the blood on the carpet outside the vic’s apartment and the blood from the wall, it won’t match.”

“I wouldn’t take that bet.” Don frowned at the elevator. “But how do we know what apartment the guy from the elevator lives in?”

Jess shrugged as her phone went off. “Your problem, Flack, not mine.”

“Oh, come on, Angell!” Don groaned.

Jess sighed. “But, if it were me, I’d check the door handles for gunshot residue.”

Don gave her a smile that made her legs begin to shake. “Thank you.”

***

By the time Danny turned up in Central Park, Hawkes, Aiden and Jess were already gathered around the body.

“Mornin’.” Danny greeted as he reached them, handing Aiden a cup of coffee.

“How come you never bring me coffee?” Hawkes asked.

“Aid and I made a pact when we started workin’ together.” Danny shrugged. “You want in? You gotta swear in blood first though.”

“I never realised coffee was so important.” One of the uniforms muttered.

“First day?” Jess asked over her shoulder.

He looked surprised. “Third, Detective.”

“Give it time.” Jess smirked. “You’ll be running on it before long.”

“What do we got?” Danny asked.

“Tara Stansfield.” Jess answered. “Weather girl for Channel 8, local news.”

“Explains the pancake make-up and the clothes she’s wearing.” Danny commented, pulling a pair of latex gloves on. “She might’ve just come from work.”

“Or an assignment.” Hawkes added. “She’s been doing small stories lately, moving up from the weather.”

“Patrol says a jogger found her about an hour ago.” Aiden put in.

“No apparent cause of death.” Danny frowned. “No signs of strangulation. Nothing to indicate sexual assault.”

“Doesn’t appear to be a robbery. Still wearing her jewellery and watch …” Aiden trailed off, shaking her head. “I’m lost.”

“Doesn’t take much.” Danny quipped, examining the victim’s hands. “Oh, we got trace; it’s a yellowish colour. There’s no blood, no damage to the nails … although they are fake …”

“Thank you, Detective.” Jess muttered, rolling her eyes. “Talk about stating the blindingly obvious.”

Danny grinned at her. “That’s what we’re paid to do. Only traces of dirt. Her coat’s damp. Here.”

Hawkes joined him and they rolled Tara onto her back. “Lividity on her face and neck put time of death at least eight hours ago.”

“Actually,” Danny glanced at his watch, “ten hours and thirteen minutes.”

“It’s impossible to be that exact on TOD.” Hawkes disagreed.

“You think so, Einstein?” Danny smirked.

Hawkes sighed. “Danny, I’m a certified pathologist, I know so.”

Aiden stood back to join Jess. “Better wait until they’re finished or we’ll never get anything done.”

“Her coat is damp.” Danny pointed out, a certain amount of smugness in his voice. “I got caught in the rain last night. A 20 minute torrential downpour at 8.45. Only the makeup on the right side of her face was streaked, which means she was lying here dead when the rain began.”

Hawkes pulled a face at Danny and looked up at the two women, who were smirking at him, then looked back at Danny. “Show off.”

***

Several hours later, preoccupied with the inexplicable – how had Tara Stansfield drowned in the middle of Central Park? -  Jess, Aiden, Hawkes and Danny found themselves in the AV room.

None of the so-called ‘lab-rats’ were aware of Jess’s story, and she fully intended to keep it that way.

But she’d forgotten about a certain lab-rat, who had become a CSI without a badge.

“Hey, Adam.” She greeted when he walked in.

Adam jumped. “Oh … hey, Detective … erm … how did you … Does that mean … I mean, it’s not …”

“Yes, the rumours are true.” Jess nodded. “Yes, I came from the future.”

“Why are you telling Adam?” Danny asked. “He’s only just joined the lab. There are about fifty others who’ve been here …”

“Adam’s the only one I knew in the future.” Jess cut him off with a smile. “Was practically a CSI by the time I left.”

“W-wow … Really?” Adam stuttered.

“She wouldn’t lie.” Aiden handed him the destroyed tape they’d found in Tara’s dressing room at the studios. “Here, Adam; work your magic.”

Jess watched with a certain degree of fascination as Adam unravelled the tape and steamed it to straighten it out, his shyness and awkwardness seeming to melt away as he worked.

Gradually the crumpled tape became smoother and smoother until it was almost impossible to tell they’d ever been destroyed.

“Adam, when you’re done with that, I got a pair of slacks that need to be ironed.” Danny quipped.

“I have no response to that.” Adam muttered, as Aiden swatted her partner over the head. “Okay, let’s see what Tara Stansfield didn’t want the world to see.”

With a few clicks, a picture appeared on the screen. But out of everything the assembled audience had predicted, this had not been expected.

_“The male walrus and the female walrus may appear slothful, but their mating habits would make even the most sexually active couples blush.”_

“Walruses?” Aiden asked, watching the large mammals rolling around on-screen. “Are you serious?”

A moment of static answered her question and the picture transformed into …

“Those aren’t walruses.” Danny stated as Tara and an unknown man landed on her bed.

Jess couldn’t help tilting her head to see if she could distinguish who her sex-buddy was.

A hand brushed against her lower back and she jumped, realising that Don and Lindsay, probably on their way to see Mac, had seen through the glass walls of the AV lab and joined them.

“Footage from your thirtieth birthday party, Messer?” Lindsay asked.

Danny didn’t miss a beat. “Walrus documentary, actually.”

“It’s Tara Stansfield, our victim from the park.” Hawkes explained.

Lindsay nodded. “Who’s the other walrus?” She tilted her head to get a better look.

“I’ve seen him before.” Jess muttered. “I know I have.”

“We all have.” Hawkes said. “It’s her producer.”

“Her married producer.” Jess added, turning the video off. “Motive?”

“It was him then?” Aiden asked.

Jess shrugged. “No idea. No one told me about this one.”

“You’re loads of help today, aren’t you?” Aiden asked, the grin on her face taking any sting out of the comment.

“We’ll go and talk to the producer.” Danny said, indicating Hawkes. “Coming, Angell?”

“Actually, I need to talk to Jess about something.” Don said.

“Apparently not.” Jess told Danny. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Suit yourself.” Danny shrugged.

Adam’s beeper went off. “Mac wants me.” He announced to no one in particular, before he too disappeared out of the AV lab.

Jess folded her arms. “This better be good, Flack; I was looking forward to watching that guy crash and burn.”

“Can we stay?” Aiden asked. “Or is this a private conversation?”

Don raised an eyebrow. “You implying somethin’, Burn?”

In response, Aiden pulled her phone out, pressed a few buttons and held it up, showing them a picture of the two of them sound asleep in each other’s arms. “Depends, Flack. Something you’re not telling us?”

“No.” They answered in unison.

“What do you think, Linds?” Aiden tilted the screen towards her.

Lindsay smirked. “Looks like they’re not telling us something.”

“What did you need?” Jess asked, ignoring them.

“We got him.” Don told her. “The shooter. We got him. He was in a drunken stupor when we found him.”

“Okay.” Jess waited, sure there had to be more than just an update to this conversation.

“I was wondering if you knew …” Don hesitated. “His little girl was there.”

Jess cursed under her breath. “How old?”

“About eight.” Don sighed. “If that. Do you know what happened to her?”

Jess pulled a face. “I wish I did. Her mom’s still around, right?”

“Yeah.” Don nodded. “Divorced. He was mugged and slipped into depression … She couldn’t cope. He lost everything and, instead of holding it together for his daughter, she was left to fend for himself while he drank himself into oblivion.”

“Alcoholics can’t always help it, Don.” Jess stated quietly, wondering if and how she’d ever be able to tell him that the problem was closer to him than he thought. “It’s not that easy to just stop.”

“I get that.” Don told her. “I do, Jess. But he knew he had a problem and he didn’t even try to get help.”

“Some people just can’t be helped.” Jess shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll be alright; her mom’ll take care of her and now he’ll have to get help.”

Don sighed. “Yeah. Too little, too late. C’mon, Linds. We’d better fill Mac and Stel in.”

The door swung closed behind them and Aiden turned her smirk on Jess instead.

Jess rolled her eyes. “Nothing happened.”

“Uh huh.” Aiden’s expression didn’t change.

“Look, it’d been a bad day … we just fell asleep.” Jess shrugged. “No big deal.”

“Jess, I’ve known Flack for a long time.” Aiden told her. “I’ve ‘had bad days and fallen asleep’. That is not it.” She slipped her phone away, now looking more curious than amused. “Was something going on between you two before?”

Jess nodded silently, not trusting her voice.

“Was it serious?” Aiden asked.

Jess nodded again.

“Did you love him?”

Another nod.

Aiden let out a breath. “Wow. Does he know?”

“Yeah.” Jess answered quietly. “I didn’t want to tell him. It was kinda taken out of my hands.”

Aiden shook her head. “I don’t wanna know. So what is going on here, if you’re not dating?”

“We’re friends.” Jess said. “And partners. That’s all.”

“No.” Aiden disagreed. “Flack and I are friends. You two have so much UST that you might just start causing things to combust if you don’t hook up soon.”

“That’s a new one.” Jess commented. “You’re not gonna do anything with that picture, are you?”

Aiden shrugged. “I was. I can save it for the wedding if you like.”

“Why are you so convinced we’re gonna get together?” Jess asked curiously. “And don’t give me the tension answer again.”

She had started having nagging doubts herself as to whether anything would happen this time, wondering if maybe it was a certain sequence of events that had caused him to fall for her.

She couldn’t deny Aiden’s comment about sexual tension though; she was fairly sure that if and when he finally kissed her, the result would be orgasmic.

Jess forced those thoughts to the back of her head before they could get too detailed, knowing that lab was hardly the place to let _those_ fantasies reign, and raised a questioning eyebrow, waiting for Aiden’s response.

“He’s crazy about you.” The CSI shrugged. “He just hasn’t realised it yet. And he won’t for ages. And, because he cares about you, he won’t make a move until he _does_ realise it.”

“So what do I do?” Jess asked, dropping all pretence.

“Either wait, or back him into a corner.” Aiden advised. “Make him jealous.”

Jess pulled a face. “I don’t know …”

“It won’t take much.” Aiden assured her. “All you’ll have to do is _smile_ at another guy; Don’s the possessive type.”

“Yeah.” Jess muttered. “I’d noticed.”

“So which are you going for?” Aiden asked.

“I’ll wait.” Jess decided. “The second one sounds too manipulative for me.”

Aiden shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just remember it’s always an option.”

“Sure.” Jess checked her phone. “Producer’s got an alibi.”

“We’d better get back to work rather than gossiping then.” Aiden concluded.

Jess nodded, following her out of the AV room. While she already knew how possessive Don could be – even before they’d started dating she’d noticed that he moved closer to her when men on the street looked twice – she’d never thought about using that to her own advantage.

And, despite her conviction not to start now, she filed the thought away … just in case.


	11. City of the Dolls

It was sod’s law, really, that Jess’s car would fail to start on the one night it started snowing, and that Don didn’t work late, and that her only hopes for a ride home were men who would take it as an invitation.

But there was little she could do about it except do her jacket up tightly and start walking. It wasn’t that bad, actually; she always loved the way the city looked when it snowed and, given the late hour, the snow was relatively undisturbed in the street she was walking.

She could have called Don and asked for a ride, but the weather wasn’t that harsh and she didn’t live that far away, so she kept going, her breath condensing into smoky patterns in front of her.

Jess had only been walking about ten minutes when a teenage boy emerged from a nearby store with a yell, almost colliding with her. In the split-second it took her to catch her balance, she noticed the shimmering red on his hands and caught his arm. “Hey! NYPD!”

“I didn’t do it!” He babbled. “I swear, I just went in to hide … we were throwing snowballs … this guy started chasing me … the door was open, I swear …”

“Calm down.” Jess guided him back towards the door, but he resisted.

“No! I can’t go back in there … I think he’s dead!”

“Alright.” Jess soothed, pulling out her notepad and a pen. “Wait here then. I want you to write down everything that happened and your name, address and phone number. Then you can go home, okay?”

He nodded shakily. “Okay.”

Pushing the door to the dingy store open, Jess pulled her sidearm from its holster. “Hello? NYPD!”

There was silence. Everywhere she looked, dolls hung from the ceiling and on shelves. Jess pulled out her flashlight as well and scanned the floor, finding what the boy had discovered; a man lying dead in a pile of dolls, his eyes wide and unseeing. Carefully, not wanting to disturb the scene any more, she checked the man’s pulse and then shone her light into his eyes.

Nothing.

She looked around, but there was no sign of life, no indication of anyone else. The beam of light moved up over the walls and to the windows at the top of the stairs and she smirked triumphantly, finding what she’d expected to; two sills of undisturbed snow and one with a gap.

_Someone climbed through that window._

She ducked back out into the street and took her notepad back. “You see anyone leaving?”

He shook his head. “No. I was looking behind me.”

“Okay, thanks. Oh, and quit putting rocks in the middle of snowballs.” She added, not waiting around to see the shock on his face.

As soon as he’d left, Jess pulled her radio out, peering up at the store sign. “Central, this is Detective Angell. I got a DOA at NYC Premiere Doll Hospital. White male, approximately 35 years old. I need the coroner and Crime Scene Unit.”

_“Copy that, Detective.”_

Jess sighed, turning her radio off, flipping to the next page of her notepad, jotting down her observations about the window and the snow. She could remember it easily, but she had to follow protocol.

As sirens neared, she moved over to the office, keeping a hand on her weapon just in case. It didn’t take her long to find a photo ID, by which time two uniformed officers had joined her and roped off the crime scene.

By the time the CSIs got there, Jess was ready for them.

“Now this is spooky.” Danny commented, looking around. “I lived here my whole life; never knew a place like this existed.”

“Never broke an arm off your GI Joe?” Jess teased

Danny chuckled. “Yeah, but I did it on purpose. Casualty of war.” He grinned at her. “What about you?”

Jess rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Messer; I seem like the doll type?”

“Now that you mention it …” Danny began.

Mac interrupted him. “Who’s our vic?”

“Russell McCauley.” Jess answered. “He owns all of this. Kid literally stumbled onto him and ran into me. I took his statement and sent him home.”

Danny crouched beside the body, examining the injury. “Somebody sliced his hand good.”

Mac joined him. “Sliced right through the radial artery.”

“Got something here.” Danny pulled out a pair of tweezers and gently tugged something from the wound.”

“Arterial spray.” Mac commented, now shining his flashlight on the wall. “He was cut there. Direction of the blood pattern says he stumbled back to here, grabbed for the shelves and it all came tumbling down. More than likely died of shock before he completely bled out.”

Danny straightened up. “Why kill this guy?”

“Doesn’t appear to be a robbery.” Jess told them. “Cash is still in the register. None of the dolls are missing, as far as we can tell. But check this out.” She pointed up to the window. “See it?”

“Middle window.” Mac nodded. “The snow’s disturbed. Someone climbed in.”

“How?” Danny asked. “Unless there’s a fire escape.”

“It’ll come to me.” Jess assured him. “Lindsay told me about this case, but it’s late; just give me time to work it through.”

Mac turned his attention back to the body. “Left hand is clenched, holding on tight.”

“Cadaveric spasm.” Danny concluded. “Quick and extreme rigor.”

Mac carefully pried Russell’s fingers open, pulling the doll away. “Something about this little doll was worth dying for.”

“Secret Sophie.” Jess concluded.

“Excuse me?” Danny asked.

“I got one for my niece.” Jess explained.

“How old is she?” Mac asked.

“Well, she’s one right now.” Jess admitted. “I got her one for her fourth birthday. What’s special about this particular doll is that it records a secret. Hence the name.”

“So maybe the secret Sophie was keeping was enough to kill over.” Danny suggested.

“Here.” Jess took Sophie and pressed her hand. The doll’s mouth moved but nothing happened. “She’s broken.”

“Oh God!” A distraught female voice cried from the door and all three looked up to see a young brunette woman in a nurse’s uniform standing in the doorway.

One of the uniforms caught her as her knees buckled and Jess hurried to her side, leading her into the office and out of sight of the body.

“Virginia Felton?” Jess guessed.

She nodded shakily, sinking onto one of the stairs leading up to the mezzanine. “When the officer told me something had happened … I had no idea …”

Jess handed her a tissue, smiling gratefully at Lindsay who had arrived with cups of coffee, one of which she set on a filing cabinet for her.

“Miss Felton, when did you last see Mr. McCauley?” Jess asked.

“Six o’clock.” Virginia answered. “That’s when we close. Dr. McCauley usually stays after hours. Mostly to catch up on paperwork.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “Doctor?”

“We try to make it like a real hospital.” Virginia explained. “We have admission and release forms … visiting hours … it’s for the kids. When they drop off their broken dolls, we want them to feel like we’ll take good care of them.”

“Was there anything special about the Secret Sophie doll?” Danny asked, gesturing to the doll Mac was slipping into an evidence bag.

“She was admitted yesterday afternoon. I believe the doctor repaired her.” Virginia told them, causing Jess and Danny to exchange a loaded glance. “I can get you the paperwork, Detective.”

Jess stopped her. “Miss Felton, can you think of any reason why someone would wanna kill Dr. McCauley.”

Virginia shook her head. “No.”

“Any disgruntled customers?” Danny prompted. “Former employees? Maybe he was having problems at home with the family? The smallest thing could  help.”

Virginia thought for a minute. “One lady returned her antique doll several times; said she was unsatisfied with the work. But that was months ago. More recently the doctor filed a complaint with WorldSend.”

“The parcel delivery service?” Jess asked, suddenly remembering something else.

“Some of the dolls we repair come from out of state.” Virginia explained. “We carefully package them and send them back, but … lately we’ve been getting calls that items inside were broken.”

Jess nodded. “Was Mr. McCauley married or in a relationship?”

“Hopelessly single.” Virginia answered. “Although there were a lot of women in his life.”

“Were you one of them?” Jess asked sympathetically.

“No.” Virginia smiled sadly. “I wasn’t that lucky. Excuse me.”

“We need to find that WorldSend driver.” Jess stated as she left.

“You think it was them?” Danny asked.

“No.” Jess admitted. “But I think the van’s important.”

***

“Are we sure the doll was repaired?” Lindsay asked.

Jess flicked through the paperwork. “Uh huh. And, according the phone records, Mr. McCauley called Monica Drake – the woman who admitted her – last night, presumably to tell her the doll was ready.”

“Are you assuming or do you know?” Danny asked.

Jess smiled. “Come on, Danny; I can’t lead you. I can guide you, but not lead you. Work with me.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Alright, if you’re gonna be awkward about it.”

“I’ll see if I can fix this.” Lindsay decided. “Jess, Aiden’s waving at you.”

“Thanks.” Jess jogged over. “What’s up?”

“Cancer.” Aiden stated, earning a slightly worried look in return. “Not me.” She added hastily. “Our vic. She had terminal cancer and someone killed her.”

“Next door neighbour.” Jess murmured, remembering Don’s anger-fuelled explanation after the death of a young man had been put down to natural causes and she’d commented that they probably should have known. “Wanted a nursery.”

Aiden made a soft noise of disgust. “Some people will do anything.”

“I know.” Jess agreed, as her phone went off. “Angell. Have you?” She pulled her notepad out and took the pen Aiden offered her. “Rhonda Chavez, got it. Have her meet us outside the Doll Hospital. Thanks, Turner.” She hung up and hooked her phone back onto her belt. “Hey, Messer! We gotta go!”

***

“This is where I park.” Rhonda told them. “Enough room for unloading and reloading.”

“What are you thinking, Angell?” Danny asked.

“I’m thinking …” Jess put her foot on the top of the truck’s front wheel and pulled herself up, using the dumpster for leverage. “I’m thinking it’s possible. And …” She jumped down again. “I see trace.”

Danny peered up. “So do I.” He handed her an evidence bag. “Since you’re so good at this, why don’t you go get it?”

Jess rolled her eyes and climbed back up. “I think you’re doing this just to stare at my ass.”

“You got me.” Danny grinned. “Don’t tell Flack.”

“You …” Jess managed to brush the trace into the bag “… are unbelievable.”

“True.” Danny agreed, taking the bag. “What is this?”

“Looks like powder from a cast.” Jess commented.

“We know anyone who’s got a broken arm?” Danny asked. “Couldn’t be a leg if they climbed up there.”

“No.” Jess checked her notes. “But we might wanna have a chat with Monica Drake.”

“Okay.” Danny agreed, taking a careful look around to make sure they hadn’t missed anything, before thanking Rhonda for letting them borrow her van.

“We can pick up Lindsay on the way.” Jess suggested, leading the way back to the squad car.

“Will it really take three of us to interview this woman?” Danny asked sceptically.

“Probably not.” Jess admitted. “Alright, then drop me off at the lab and pick Lindsay up.” She shrugged. “She told me about this case; I got the impression she really enjoyed it.”

Danny turned to her and stared at her for a few minutes, arms folded across his chest. “You know what, Angell? I think you’ve got an ulterior motive.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “And to think I once wondered how you became a CSI.”


	12. Jamalot

“The Kingdom of Jamalot?” Jess repeated slowly. “Is that the title of a porn film?”

Don chuckled on the other end of the line. _“No, it’s the promotional work for the Manhattan Minxes.”_

“Manhattan Minxes?” Jess sniggered. “You sure it wasn’t a porn film?”

They were both at separate crime scenes and Jess was half-concentrating on the conversation and half-watching Danny and Aiden extract a half-naked man from carpet.

“Hang on.” Jess covered her phone. “ALS.”

“Excuse me?” Aiden glanced up.

“You need an ALS.” Jess elaborated.

Aiden looked around. “Why?”

Jess thought for a second. “Can’t remember. But I’m sure you need one.” She turned her attention back to her phone. “Who are the Manhattan Minxes?”

 _“A roller-derby team.”_ Don told her slowly, not, she knew, because he thought she wouldn’t understand otherwise, but to allow the words to sink in one by one, possibly jogging her memory better than a rushed message. _“Victim was Rose Wilson, otherwise known as She Hate Me.”_

Jess groaned. “Dammit. I heard about it, Don, but I can’t be sure I didn’t read it in the papers. How was she killed?”

 _“We think blunt force trauma.”_ Don answered. _“She was found dead at the bottom of a pile; someone’s skate came down on her face.”_

The memory flitted just out of Jess’s reach. “I’m not sure, Don. I’ve got a feeling that wasn’t what killed her, but Sid will tell you that when you get her back to autopsy. Sorry; I haven’t been much help.”

Don sighed. _“It’s okay. Back to the old-fashioned solution of actually investigating then.”_

Jess sniggered. “See you later.” She hung up and turned back to the body, seeing words lit up on the man’s skin. “That’s why you needed an ALS.”

“Talk about stating the obvious.” Hawkes muttered. “What is all this?”

Jess shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Once again, you’re a load of help.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“I do my best, Danny.” Jess frowned. “I wasn’t here for all this, remember?”

“Calm down, Detective.” Danny squeezed her shoulder as he passed. “I’m just joking.”

“Hey.” Aiden called quietly. “What’s wrong? You seem a little on edge today.”

Jess shook her head. “I don’t know.” She admitted. “But it’s freaking me out.” She looked around, stamping her feet on the icy ground in an attempt to keep the cold from stealing the nerves in them.

Something about the parking lot they were standing in was familiar, though Jess was sure she’d never been there before.

And that something was throwing her off.

***

As soon as the case was closed, Jess found herself back in the parking lot, looking around for any clue now that the crime scene tape had been removed. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she started walking, wondering if her subconscious would lead her somewhere.

And it did.

A block over, she stood in another parking lot, staring at the back entrance of a cheap motel, an icy chill that had nothing to do with the weather contracting her chest and making breathing difficult.

“Jess.”

Jess spun around, seeing Don walking towards her. He had a smile on his face and she guessed his case had been closed too. “Hey.”

“What are you doing out here?” He asked. “It’s freezing.”

Jess smiled sadly. “Reminiscing.”

“You ever figure out what was getting to you?” Don pressed. “Aiden said you’ve been snappy for the last few days.”

“It was the area.” Jess answered. “And the date.”

Don frowned for a second in confusion. He took in the longing in her eyes and the sad smile on her face and his own expression cleared. “Anniversary?”

Jess nodded. “First kiss. We were standing right here. Crime scene was a block over. It only just hit me.”

Don sighed, slipping an arm around her waist. “I’m sorry, Jess.” He murmured. “I need …”

“Time, I know.” Jess finished. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty, Don. You asked. I didn’t think you’d appreciate a lie.”

“I wouldn’t.” Don confirmed, gently steering her away from the parking lot and towards her apartment. “What were we doing there anyway? Stakeout?”

“Something like that.” Jess agreed vaguely.

Don sighed. “Half-truths don’t work either, Jess. Why were we in a place like that?”

Jess took a deep breath. “Samantha.”

Don stopped walking. “My sister?”

Jess nodded, turning to face him, unable to read his expression now the light of the streetlamps were dimmer. It made it easier. “I was running down a warrant with Martinez a few nights earlier and a beer bottle suddenly collided with the windshield of our car. It was the guys she was hanging with who were causing the problem so I let her off with a warning and told you the next day. Few days later, I’d just gotten home after closing a case and you called me; asked me to meet you back there. I drove out, waited, then you came out and told me that you were gonna walk it off instead.”

“What did you say?” Don asked quietly.

“I told you I understood.” Jess answered just as quietly, remembering the worn, almost heartbroken expression on his face as if it was yesterday. “Asked if you and Sam were gonna be okay. You told me you were stubborn. I asked if you were gonna be okay. You told me you would be and walked away. I was about to get back in the car, when you called me back and kissed me.”

She’d never divulged that much about their relationship (or the future at all, for that matter) before and she was hoping that would distract him from the mention of his sister.

“Jess, why were we there?” Don asked again.

Jess sighed. “Not here, Don …”

“Yes, here.” Don disagreed. “Why?”

Jess sighed again. “She was at an AA meeting. She is – or will be, I don’t know how long it had been going on – an alcoholic.”

Don took an automatic step back. “No.”

“I’m sorry.” Jess murmured.

“Why?” Don whispered. “What drove her …?”

“She said …” Jess swallowed, wishing she hadn’t started her sentence, but he moved closer again, his eyes begging her for answers and she found herself unable to deny them. “She said that her family was perfect and that she was the screw-up.”

“Dammit.” Don muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry.” Jess repeated.

“It’s not your fault.” Don shook his head, his arm reappearing around her waist. “What do I do?”

“Honestly? Don, I don’t know if there’s anything you _can_ do.” Jess admitted. “I think your best option is to wait until something happens, but _don’t_ blame her, don’t yell at her and don’t tell her what she’s doing wrong. Just sit her down, tell her that you love her and that you’re worried and is there anything you can do.”

“How did I handle it the first time?” Don asked.

“Well, it’s different.” Jess pointed out. “At that point, she had realised and accepted it about herself. One of my brothers, Rob … it took us six months of dragging him to AA meetings and he didn’t talk to us the entire time. We just used to go over; the boys used to pick him up and physically carry him to the car; I’d drive him to the meetings and then they’d carry him in. And we used to sit outside that room, praying he’d start talking, but he didn’t. Then we’d take him home and he’d turn to us and say, “I hate you all for this.””

It wasn’t until he stopped walking again and pulled her into his arms that she realised she’d started crying. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Jess shook her head into his shirt. “It’s not your fault.”

Don kissed her head. “C’mon. Maybe we’d better get back to your apartment before you finish the story.”

Jess didn’t argue, allowing him to walk her home, both of them stepping carefully on the icy ground.

When they were finally inside her apartment, Don made them both a mug of coffee and sat her down on her couch. “Hold the Irish.” He grinned.

“Probably a good idea.” Jess agreed, tucking her feet up under her to lean against him.

Don wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. “So how’s your brother now?”

“Sober.” Jess answered with a smile. “Finally, after six months, we were waiting outside and he started talking about the drink and … I think that was the last time I cried until …” She trailed off, remembering the next time she’d broken down.

Without a word, she pulled a notepad from her pocket and jotted something down.

“That’s not the usual one.” Don noted.

“No, this one I keep notes from the future in.” Jess explained. “Sometimes, things come to me and I can’t do anything about them yet, so I note down the date – May 2009 – and the case.”

“Can I?” Don asked and she handed him the notepad. “Todd Fleming – follow him at all times?”

“It’s a long story.” Jess sighed. “I’ll tell you closer the time. I promise.” She took the pad back and tucked it away. “What happened with your roller-derby team?”

“It was the owner’s wife.” Don pulled a face. “She was pissed off that her husband was jeopardising their pension and wanted to make sure they succeeded so she spiked their shampoo with a very dangerous weight loss drug. When Rose got caught in the pile-up …”

Jess nodded and he knew he didn’t need to go on; she had guessed what had happened.

“It’s a shame.” Don shook his head. “We talked to the reserve player and she was saying how she never showered with the rest of the girls, because they were perfect and intimidated her … she was a pretty girl. I mean, I wouldn’t say she’d win Miss America or anything, but there was nothing wrong with how she looked. Why are so many women incapable of looking in the mirror and seeing what the rest of us see and not their own twisted vision of reality?”

Jess chuckled. “Hey, I don’t get it either.”

“You know, right?” Don asked suddenly.

Jess frowned, tipping her head back. “Know what?”

“That you’re beautiful.” Don elaborated. “I mean, I know I don’t tell you enough _now_ , but back then, I must’ve told you every day, right?”

Jess smiled fondly. “Sometimes more than that. I stopped doubting that a long time ago.”

“Good.” Don tightened his arm around her shoulders. “You’re worth so much more than that.”

Jess smiled, knowing a response was unnecessary. She knew Aiden – and now Lindsay and Stella – were wondering why she wasn’t pushing Don to put some sort of label on their relationship, but she had begun recognising his behaviour and knew it was only a matter of time; she had lived through this before, after all.

They spent all their time together, regularly had dinner together; he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since he’d met her.

As Lindsay had pointed out the first time round, they were already dating.

He just hadn’t realised it yet.

And, for now at least, she was willing to wait.


	13. Trapped

Jess yawned, fighting off the haze of exhaustion that stemmed from no sleep for over 20 hours. On her way out of the precinct, she had caught a homicide at a strip club and any hopes of catching some sleep that night had been fried, just like the victim.

She was sure no one had ever mentioned this case, but she couldn’t be certain; she was so tired she was struggling to remember her own name, let alone a half-forgotten conversation about old cases.

It was now the following morning and she was in the precinct, running a search on ‘Kandy’s’ credit cards, just in case, when her phone rang, Don’s name blinking up at her from the screen.

“Hey.” She greeted.

_“Hey, I have Hunter Hudson here; dead billionaire.”_

Jess sat up straight, exhaustion falling away. “Where’s Danny?”

_“With the victim; why?”_

“And where are you?” Jess pressed.

His confusion was evident. _“Outside the building. What’s wrong?”_

“I’ll call you back.” Jess hung up and dialled Danny’s number, grabbing her jacket as she did and running out of the precinct. “Come on, pick up.”

_“Messer.”_

“Danny, don’t touch anything!” Jess warned. “You’re in …” She was cut off by a grating noise and slowed down as she reached her car. “Never mind.”

_“What the hell’s going on?”_

_“Danny?!”_ Stella’s voice echoed over the phone, but was cut off suddenly.

 _“Jess, what the hell?”_ Danny repeated.

Jess sighed. “It’s called a panic room. Hold on, and I’ll call Don back.” She hung up again and hit speed-dial.

_“Alright, Jess, you wanna tell me what that was all about?”_

***

“Just relax, Danno; we’ll get you outta there.” Don told him through the monitor.

“Easy for you to say.” Danny snapped. “You’re not trapped with a dead body.”

“Don’t worry.” A new male voice answered. “Reinforcements are here.”

“Hallelujah!” Danny sighed. “Get me out.”

“This is Jerry Gordon.” Linda Cortez explained. “He installed the panic room.”

“Unfortunately,” Jerry frowned, “there’s no master code. We’re gonna have to drill a new door.”

“Really?” Don asked. “That’s odd, because my partner called your company – must’ve been after Miss Cortez already called you – and she says that your secretary told her that you have a policy of always installing a master code.”

“Well, either my secretary or your partner is mistaken.” Jerry told him calmly.

“Detective Angell tries very hard not to be mistaken, doesn’t she, Detective Bonasera?” Don asked, pulling his phone.

“Oh, she’s almost always right, Detective Flack.” Stella agreed.

“But I’ll check anyway.” Don added. “Hey, Angell. Are you sure that secretary said there was a master code?” He asked, knowing she’d pick up on the underlying message.

_“Positive. In fact, she was nice enough to give it to me.”_

“I owe you dinner for this.” Don grinned, guessing she must have called the company since they’d last spoken (he couldn’t imagine that she’d remembered the code all this time, especially since she hadn’t been there). “What is it?” He typed out to code into the computer, the light changed from red to green and the door opened.

Danny breathed a sigh of relief. “Jess, I love you, you know that?”

Jess sniggered. _“I doubt Lindsay will be too happy about that.”_

Don didn’t repeat it, settling for a smirk.

_“Oh, Don, check the body. You told me a lot about this one; there should be laundry detergent.”_

Don made his way over to the body and crouched down. Sure enough, there was white powder spread across the body and floor. “Hey, Mess.”

Danny joined him and rubbed a gloved finger in the powder. “What is that? Coke?”

Don shook his head. “Looks more like laundry detergent to me.”

“Oh, you’re the scientist now, huh?” Danny asked.

Don sniggered. “No. But there’s nothing in Hunter’s history suggesting he’s a user and there’s a laundry room down the hall. Stella?”

“I’m on it.” She called, disappearing from view.

 _“Hey, Don, lemme talk to Danny?”_ Jess asked.

“Sure.” Don tossed the phone over to Danny and re-entered the living room, where Jerry Gordon seemed rooted to the floor and Linda Cortez seemed on the verge of tears.

“Hey, Flack!” Stella called, walking back in. “Look what I found in the washing machine.”

Don grinned at the sight of a blood-stained maid’s uniform. “Hmm, I wonder who _that_ belonged to.”

Stella turned it to examine the blood spatter. “You know, with this blood pattern, whoever was wearing it was standing in front of the victim when his throat was cut.”

“Really?” Don asked slowly, stretching the word out, turning to look at Jerry Gordon.

“Hey!” Gordon protested. “What makes you think it’s me? I’ve got the weakest motive out of everyone here.”

“That’s true.” Don agreed, cuffing Linda. “Linda Cortez, you’re under arrest for aiding and abetting in a homicide and perverting the course of justice. We’ll add everything else in later. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Linda whispered.

“Good, good.” Don handed her over to Stella. “So, Mr. Gordon, how well do you know Miss Cortez?”

Gordon hesitated for a second and neither detective missed the small head-shake Linda gave him. “I don’t. We met briefly when I installed the panic room and that’s it.”

“Oh, right, the panic room you forgot you’d added an override code to.” Don nodded, retrieving Linda’s cellphone. “You know what’s great about arrests like this? We don’t need a warrant. So, if you’ve only met once, you wanna explain why you’re speed-dial one?”

***

“He was what?!”

Jess winced. “Linds, keep your voice down!” She smirked. “I thought you weren’t worried about what happened to Danny?”

“I’m not.” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “I’m just a little … _concerned_ that he was trapped in a room with a dead body.”

“For about ten minutes.” Jess finished. “Come on, Linds; it was like five hours last time.”

“What was?” A male voice asked behind them.

For someone who wasn’t worried in the slightest, Lindsay moved extremely quickly, throwing her arms around Danny’s neck and hugging him tightly. “Are you okay?”

“Er, yeah.” Danny returned the embrace almost hesitantly, shooting Jess a confused look over her head.

Jess just shrugged and grinned at Don. “Get them?”

“Got them.” Don confirmed, crossing the room to where she was standing and kissing her forehead. “All thanks to you.”

Jess flushed. “Don, you got them the first time without my help.” She murmured.

“Ah, but you did help this time.” Don pointed out. “And that means I get to make the Rangers game tonight. You joining me?”

“Love to. You know I’m a Devils girl, right?” Jess checked.

Don chuckled. “We’ll see about that. Lindsay? Danny?”

As if suddenly realising what she was doing, Lindsay hastily pulled away, her cheeks flaming red. “Uh, sure.”

“Danny?” Don repeated.

Danny pulled a face. “Might do, but I’m meeting my brother first.”

Jess caught his eye and nodded towards Lindsay, who looked faintly disappointed.

“Hey, Montana, you wanna come with?” Danny asked. “I could use someone with me; you know, stop me from hitting him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t wanna impose …” Lindsay began.

“You? Never.” Danny insisted. “C’mon, Montana …”

Lindsay sighed. “Fine.” She agreed with a smile.

“Alright.” Danny checked his watch. “You mind riding with me?”

“Do I ever?” Lindsay asked in response.

Danny laughed. “Fair enough. See you, guys.”

“See you.” Don leaned against the wall. “So how was your case?”

Jess smirked. “Oh, you’re gonna love this. Linds and I went lube diving for evidence at a strip club.”

Don stared at her, apparently trying to work out whether she was messing with him or not.

“Seriously.” Jess nodded. “Our vic had been lube-wrestling earlier in the evening and her … er … _partner_ had gotten a little violent with her; wanted to see if he’d left anything.”

“And did he?” Don asked, the side of his mouth twitching slightly in the way it did when he was trying not to laugh at something.

“A wedding ring.” Jess sighed, signing the evidence write-up Lindsay had given her before she left. “Engraved.”

Don shook his head, the hint of a smile disappearing in an instant. “Guys like that make me sick to my stomach. That poor woman was probably waiting for him to get home and …”

“Oh, she knows.” Jess stated. “She’s probably in denial, but she knows.”

“Let me guess.” Don frowned. “Ex-boyfriend?”

“Uh huh.” Jess didn’t look up. “Only he didn’t go to strip-clubs. I came home to find him screwing my room-mate on the couch.”

Don swore under his breath and caught her arm as she moved past him. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Jess gave him a small smile. “I know. I’m over him. Way over.” She cupped his right cheek and kissed his left quickly. “It was years ago.”

Don grinned, looking a lot happier than she expected him to at that, which sent a jolt of hope through her, a jolt she fought to quash.

_He’s probably just glad you’re not hurting anymore; just be patient. He’ll tell you when he’s ready._

“Speaking of relationships,” Don said, seemingly oblivious to her internal debate, “did you convince Danny to ask Lindsay along so he’d have some support dealing with his brother or just because you’re playing matchmaker?”

Jess grinned. “Guilty as charged.”

Don sniggered. “I want no part of this.” He told her, but his expression told a different story. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” Jess asked, startled, checking her watch. “Game doesn’t start for another couple hours.”

“I know.” Don grinned. “I owe you dinner. Remember?” He pushed open the door. “After you, Detective.”


	14. Wasted

The second Jess was called to a fashion show, the case sparked a flame in her memory, but she’d need more details to figure out why.

It also made her realise that the media were going to be hell on this one.

And they were.

When she arrived, several uniformed officers were trying to get crime scene tape up, all strenuously trying to ignore the cameras being shoved at the victim.

Fleetingly, Jess found herself thinking of Officer Wilson, who she’d always been able to count on to keep a cool head at crime scenes. _God, I hope she joins the force again this time._

Trying to keep her own temper, she whistled sharply, getting the reporters attention.

“Detective! Any word on …”

“What is …?”

“Will the agency be investigated?”

Rolling her eyes, Jess whistled again, even louder this time, gaining some appreciative glances from the officers. “At this moment in time, I don’t know anything and that’s not going to change if you don’t stop contaminating this crime scene! A young woman has just dropped dead on a catwalk; her dignity has been ripped enough without you piranhas exploiting it further. Now would you please move aside and let us do our jobs, before I have to arrest you all for obstructing the course of justice.”

Thankfully, they all seemed to recognise that it wasn’t an idle threat and moved back, letting Jess approach the young woman. She knelt at her side, making the initial observations that could help jog her memory. Mac, Danny and Hawkes, she knew, were already here, somewhere, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if they had journeyed backstage, not to process, but to avoid the media.

For once, she didn’t need to check ID or ask for one; even as ignorant of the fashion world as she was, she knew who Serena Portinova was.

“Poor girl.” She murmured, pulling a pair of gloves from her pocket. Slipping one on, she gently closed Serena’s eyes.

She’d only started carrying gloves since she fell back, since she could suddenly remember where evidence was. And it was easier than prodding things through a hanky.

As she ran her eyes over the skimpy bathing suit the model was wearing, Jess suddenly realised that it was painted on. That, in turn, led to the realisation that Don had never told her about this case; she’d read about it.

Heart thudding, she swiped her finger through the green paint, smelling it cautiously. “That’s not paint.” She murmured.

“What is it?” Mac asked, making her jump.

“Dammit, how do you do that?” Jess grumbled, straightening up. “It’s ecstasy hidden in paint.” She told him, under her breath, her eyes darting around for any microphones or cameras that might have been left when the reporters backed off.

There were none.

“You’re sure?” Mac asked in the same tone.

Jess nodded. “There was a huge smuggling ring; you missed the bust, because they’d already moved the supply out. You got one of the smugglers on murder, but that’s it.” She led him backstage into the dressing room, her eyes scanning the ground. “There’s another body.” She murmured. “But it’ll look weird if we find her.”

“Evidence could be lost.” Mac warned.

“You didn’t know there was another body the first time.” Jess reminded him. “It’ll be fine.”

“Hey.” Danny greeted, approaching them.

Jess glanced over her shoulder. “Did you beat me here?”

“Musta done.” Danny shrugged. “C’mon, Angell; all these models?”

“I hate models.” Jess muttered. “What’d you find?”

Danny held up the paint tin in his hand. “See that?” He pointed to the edge. “Blood. And I noticed a cut on the back of Serena’s neck.”

“Wasn’t COD.” Jess told him quietly. “She died of an overdose; the paint. Bag it anyway though.”

“Telling me how to do my job?” Danny asked with a grin, slipping the tin into a bag. “Should we get the rest of the paint?”

“No.” Jess smirked. “See anything odd, guys?”

Mac and Danny both stared at the table. “No.”

“Those boxes carry a dozen tins.” Hawkes answered from behind her. “There’s a dozen full cans there, including the one Danny just bagged, but Serena’s covered in the same colour. Just arrived.” He explained, when Jess glanced at him. “Took a look at the victim; she didn’t die from blunt force trauma.”

“Someone replaced the cans.” Mac concluded. “We need to get the body back to the lab and test the paint. And we need to find out where the paint came from.”

“I’ll make some calls.” Jess smirked. “You’ll want to check all the vehicles in case someone stashed the tainted paint on-site.”

“Why the vehicles?” Danny asked with a frown, but Mac caught Jess’s eye and nodded, catching on to her unspoken statement; they now had reason to be able to find that second body.

***

Jess stared through the mirror at the man sitting at the interrogation table. “He walked in, dropped a gun on your desk and told you he murdered his doctor?”

“Yeah.” Don frowned. “How’s your day been?”

“I just shut down a nation-wide ecstasy smuggling ring.” Jess answered absently. “So pretty damn good.”

Don chuckled. “I want that story later. I ever say anything about this guy?”

“Give me a minute.” Jess frowned and held her hand out.

Without prompting, Don handed her the crime scene photos and she flicked through them, stopping when she saw leeches all over the victim’s body. “I think you did, yeah … he’s covering for someone …” She sighed. “I just don’t remember who, sorry.”

Don sighed. “Yeah, I kinda guessed that. But breaking up an ecstasy ring; that beats cutting our case time in half.”

Jess smiled. “Yeah, you missed it last time. Speaking of drug busts, you been paying attention?”

“You know I have.” Don assured her. “You got a more precise time frame?”

Jess closed her eyes and did the math. “Erm … May-ish. Give it a month either side for accuracy.”

“So … I have a three month period, average of three drug busts a week …” Don raised an eyebrow. “Thanks; that really narrows it down.”

“You don’t lead all those busts.” Jess pointed out with a grin.

“True.” Don admitted. “So who,” he continued, turning back to his original problem, “would he cover for to the extent of going away for life?”

“He’s dying.” Jess responded. “Maybe whoever really killed her has a long life ahead of them.”

“Why the leeches?” Don questioned.

“She was moonlighting as an alternative healer.” Jess remembered.

“Don’t doubt that.” Don frowned. “Apparently it’s quite common. But that didn’t answer the question.”

“Some people believe that leeches suck the badness out with the blood.” Jess explained with a grin. “Although, for most people, that belief went out with the theory that a toad on the head could cure the flu.”

Don shook his head. “Crazy.”

Jess shrugged. “Hey, I’m with you. But if you’re desperate enough …”

“You might pay a lot of money for a cure.” Don finished, a familiar glint appearing in his eyes. “Thanks, Jess; I got a hunch.” He reached the door of the observation room and stopped, turning to face her. “Jess?”

“Uh huh?” Jess glanced over.

“Can we talk later?” Don asked.

 _Is he nervous?_ “Yeah, of course. My place or yours?”

“Mine.” Don answered after a short pause. “After shift, yeah?”

Jess nodded, saving her frown for after the door had swung shut. She’d never seen him nervous before.

***

That evening, Jess stood outside Don’s apartment, her heart thudding in her chest so loud she was certain all of Manhattan could hear it.

Once again, she knocked, rather than let herself in.

“You can just use the key, you know.” Don told her, when the door was shut behind her. “ _Me casa es tu casa_ and so on.”

Jess grinned. “Well, you sounded pretty serious earlier. What’s up?”

Don gestured to the couch and she sat down, but, rather than sitting next to her, as he normally did, he sat down on his coffee table so he was facing her. “I … I don’t really know where to start.”

“Okay …” Jess said quietly. “Why don’t we start with your case? Who was he covering for?”

“His wife.” Don answered. “You were right; they’d lost all their money because Rachel Jefferies promised them she could cure him, only to find out that he was still sick.”

“Damn.” Jess muttered.

“But I didn’t wanna talk about that.” Don took a deep breath. “You scare me.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Commitment scares me.” Don admitted. “A lot, okay? And … even though I’m pretty sure how I feel about you now, I got this mental block that’s keeping me from admitting it … to myself, never mind you. And I just don’t think it’s fair on you to wait around for me to get over that, but … the one thing that scares me more than this is the thought of losing you.”

By the time he’d finished, he was addressing his knees rather than her face and Jess felt her heart break a little, realising just how much this was getting to him. “Don …” She tilted his chin up with a finger. “I don’t see it as ‘waiting around’. I love you.”

Don grasped her hand gently. “Why doesn’t the wait bother you?”

“It did to start with.” Jess admitted, tugging his hand so he moved to sit next to her. “When I first woke up, I was so confused and shaken that I just wanted some form of familiarity and, yes, I just wanted us to be normal again … at least, normal the way I remembered it. But now … I’m actually glad that didn’t happen.” Seeing his confused expression, she sighed, trying to figure out how best to put her thoughts into words. “I don’t know when I fell in love with you the first time round. I didn’t admit it to myself until we’d been dating at least four months. I knew I’d been falling _for_ you, but … the thought of falling in love scared me as much as it does you. For the sake of argument, let’s assume that I fell in love with you when we started dating. That’s three and a half years after we met this time and there’s a lot that happened in those three and a half years.”

“I’m different?” Don guessed.

“Not dramatically.” Jess assured him. “I just know you well enough to notice the differences. The point is, if we hadn’t waited, it would’ve been like … cheating on you with you.”

“I don’t follow.” Don frowned.

Jess sighed. “It … This makes sense in my head, Don; I swear. The guy I left behind is only minutely different from you, but that still wouldn’t make it right for me to pretend you were him, even if you are the same person. Does that make sense?”

“No.” Don pinched the bridge of his nose. “And you’re giving me a headache.”

“Welcome to my world.” Jess shrugged. “I’ve been dealing with this tenfold since I got here. And it’s only gonna get worse; come August, I’m gonna have the _worst_ sense of déjà vu. Put it this way, in the time you asked for and the space I gave you, I’ve fallen in love with you all over again.” She leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “So take all the time you need, Detective. Because I’m not going anywhere.”


	15. Risk

“Hey, Angell!”

It wasn’t uncommon for Don to call her as she left the precinct, but today it wasn’t her partner’s voice that stopped her. Danny jogged up to where she was waiting, a tired grin on his face. “Any chance of a ride?”

“Sorry, Danny; I got the subway in today.” Jess smiled apologetically.

“Damn, me too.” Danny sighed. “I just don’t particularly wanna deal with that, you know?”

“Trust me, I do.” Jess agreed as they began walking again. “What train do you get?”

It turned out, though Jess wasn’t really surprised, that they got the same train, although she got off a stop before him.

It was even darker down in the subway tunnel, since their shifts had finished late, but the train was still packed.

They managed to squeeze into a space right at the front of the train, next to the cabin that held the driver.

Jess was exhausted and she leaned back against the wall, her eyes closing of their own accord. The train jolted slightly and she fell into Danny, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it.”

So she stayed where she was, his touch more reminiscent of an older brother than that of a close friend.

Then …

“Jess?” Danny shook her. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Hmm?” Jess forced her eyes to open and shook herself, peering out of the window and on to the tracks in front of them. “If you’re thinking it’s a dead body, then yes.”

“Hey!” Danny began hammering on the driver’s door. “Hey, you gotta stop the train!”

Seeing that the man was wearing headphones, Jess pulled her badge from her belt and held it up, forcing the door open, allowing Danny to slip inside and pull the handbrake hard, causing the train to shudder to a halt, inches from the body on the tracks.

Jess swapped her badge for her radio. “This is Detective Angell; we’ve got a DB on the line.” She gave Dispatch the location and replaced her radio on her belt, trusting them to get the line shut down.

“Where’s your PA?” Jess asked.

The driver pointed wordlessly to a mic.

“Danny, you start processing.” Jess told him, informing him with a look that she’d had no idea about this turn of events. “I’ll take care of things in here.” She turned the mic on. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please. My name is Detective Angell, with NYPD. There is a body on the tracks and we need to shut down this line until it’s no longer a potential crime scene. The driver is going to head down the train to the other control room and take you back to the last stop.”

Jess handed the mic back to the driver and climbed out of the train, edging down to where Danny was leaning over the body, opening the kit he always kept with him. As soon as she was clear, she signalled to the driver, who nodded and disappeared from view.

About ten minutes later, the train began moving again and disappeared in the opposite direction.

“You sure you got nothing?” Danny asked, shining his pen-light into the kid’s eyes.

“I’m sure.” Jess pulled out her radio again, requesting some more officers. “Young.” She commented, crouching beside the body.

“Yeah.” Danny sighed. “What do you think? 20? 21?”

“21.” Jess decided. “At least I hope so, because it smells like he’s been drinking.”

“Could be carrying a fake.” Danny pointed out.

“God, I hope not.” Jess groaned, searching the victim’s pockets, pausing only to pull on gloves. She found his wallet and extracted his driver’s license and student ID. “This isn’t a fake. Randy Williams, 21, student at Chelsea University. How long was your last shift?”

“Eighteen hours.” Danny sighed. “I should start taking extra caffeine in my coffee.”

***

“I hear you’re catching bodies on the way home now.” Don teased as he caught up with her at in the crime lab break-room.

“Hey, Danny found the body, not me.” Jess corrected. “I heard Aiden grumbling about brokers earlier; what’s up?”

“QT Jammer supposedly hung himself out of his office window.” Don explained. “He was a stock-broker and we needed to deal with his under-broker; Aiden’s not a big fan of the whole concept, let alone him.”

Jess chuckled. “You got anything?”

“Only that he was suffocated first.” Don tilted his head curiously. “You got nothing?”

“It hasn’t been a very good day for that.” Jess admitted. “Just give me a minute …” She closed her eyes, putting together the broker, the suffocation and the faked suicide.

After a few seconds, Don’s face appeared in her mind accompanied by a memory of laughing so hard she actually cried. Even the memory of his expression elicited a giggle.

“What?” Don prompted.

“Birdseed.” Jess stated.

Don looked lost. “What?”

“Birdseed.” Jess repeated, grinning. “I’m not telling you anymore than that, Detective.”

Aiden stuck her head round the door. “Flack, we got a lead. Cecil Arthur, last seen leaving QT Jammer’s office a few minutes before TOD. Oddly enough, he’s one of the few people who actually _made_ money yesterday.”

Jess’s grin grew even wider as another piece of the puzzle fell into place. “Do me a favour, Aiden, and try to get it on video.”

An hour later, she ran into them again as they traipsed back in, Don muttering something indiscernible as he cleaned remnants of bird seed off his jacket. He gave her a look as he passed that promised retribution for not warning him.

Aiden only paused to hand Jess her phone. “I want a copy.” She warned with a smirk. “And thanks for the tip.”


	16. Stuck on You

“Detective Angell!”

The unfamiliar voice caused Jess to pause as she reached her car. The man who called her approached slowly, but that seemed more to do with his injuries than reluctance.

Once again, her knowledge of the cases had been thin, just little comments here and there, but this time, Jess felt that she was being distracted more than anything, by the reappearance of Stella’s boyfriend, Frankie.

Yes, the cases were happening now and that wasn’t, but she knew they’d be solved without her help, whereas she was sure something was going to happen involving Frankie that she had to stop and that, in her mind, was her priority.

All she could offer Danny, Lindsay and Aiden on their case was that there was a music promoter that Danny hated.

And all she could offer Don was that one of his victims (the man that survived) was ‘the world’s biggest asshole’. They were her words, not his, composed after he’d described him to her.

Unfortunately, it looked like she was the next ‘lucky gal’ on the world’s biggest asshole’s radar. She wondered how he’d gotten her name, before remembering that Don had called her from the hospital, using her first name in the process.

_He remembered and guessed._

“Can I help you, Mr. Franchetti?”

Carlo gave her a smile that she was sure had weakened the knees of many women before her, but after Don’s it seemed weak and insincere. “I’m sure you can, beautiful. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “You know, given the stories I’ve heard from the many women we interviewed, I was expecting you to realise that every man I meet comes up with that line.” She rooted through her purse for the keys. “And you can save your breath. There’s a man I love very much and I would never do anything to hurt him. Dammit.” She muttered. “Where the hell are they?”

The window in the driver’s door rolled down. “You left them in your desk before you went to the crime lab.” Don told her. “Mind if I catch a ride?”

“Looks like I don’t have a choice.” Jess teased. “You driving?”

“If you want.” Don grinned.

“Goodbye Mr. Franchetti.” Jess nodded politely. “I hope that injury doesn’t give you too much trouble.” She rounded her car and got in the other side. “Saved by the bell.”

Don didn’t respond, putting the car in drive. The ride to her apartment was quiet and it wasn’t until the door was firmly shut behind them that he spoke. “I can’t believe he actually used that line.”

“You nearly used it when we first met.” Jess commented absently. “But I stopped you.”

“I did not.” Don protested. “Oh …” He stopped. “You mean the _first-_ first time, right?”

Jess grinned. “Right. Besides, why does it matter whether Carlo Franchetti hit on me or not? It’s not like I’d ever fall for lines like that.”

“It’s not that.” Don admitted. “I just don’t like other guys hitting on you.”

“Well, then I suggest you do something about it.” Jess said, more snappily than she’d intended.

Truth be told, she was starting to get a little tired. Despite spending a good hour a few weeks ago assuring Don that she could wait – and she would – she had noticed that her feelings were changing.

Now she’d admitted that there was a difference between them, however miniscule, and that she’d fallen in love all over again, it was becoming much harder to keep her feelings in check.

Although she’d never stopped noticing how good he looked in jeans, or when he stripped down to his wife-beater, which he had now (it was only March, but the heating was broken in her building, leaving them in an unpleasant heat), since they had started dating (the first time) she had stopped letting it affect her, knowing that, eventually, she’d be in his arms and in his bed, and that had continued when she fell back.

But now she noticed a familiar burning in her stomach, her eyes wandering over the muscles in his arms.

With great effort, she pulled herself together, noticing that he was talking to her. “Sorry, I was miles away.”

“I said,” Don began, then sighed. Without another word, he walked over and placed his hands on her waist, tugging her to him.

Jess didn’t manage more than a surprised squeak, before his lips landed on hers, devouring them hungrily.

Her hands immediately shot to his hair, grateful for the slightly longer length as it better allowed her to slip her fingers into it, anchoring him.

Don wasn’t complaining as she stumbled backwards, her back colliding with the wall of her apartment.

A voice in the back of her head told her she shouldn’t be doing this; that she’d never recover if this turned out to be spur of the moment, fuelled by jealousy.

As if reading her mind, however, Don pulled away, keeping her pinned to the wall, his forehead resting against hers. “I love you.”

Jess gaped at him for a few second. “I thought you said you …”

“I did.” Don confirmed. “I also said that the thought of losing you scared me more than anything. And I know you said you’d wait,” he added, stopping her protest, “but you’re a beautiful, smart, sexy woman and I know I’m not the only guy who’s noticed.” He began trailing kisses down her neck. “I don’t wanna miss this, Jess. And once I realised that, it became a hell of a lot easier to admit that I’m in love with you.” He grinned against her skin, lifting his head to meet her eyes. “Ridiculously, unbelievably, undeniably in love with you.”

Now _that_ smile made her knees weak and she laughed aloud, rising up on tiptoes to kiss him hard. “I love you too.”

Don grinned at her. “I know.”

“Shut up.” Jess laughed, smacking his arm lightly.

“And kiss you?” Don finished with a smirk.

“Mmm, something like that.” Jess agreed, tilting her head back to let him do just that.

“How did I cope without you?” Don murmured against her lips. He threaded his fingers into her hair, needing her closer, and she gladly complied, hooking her leg over his, allowing him to press her harder into the wall.

The movement drew a moan from her and he froze, gently pulling away.

“Not like this.” He whispered, kissing her forehead and stepping back. “Not like this.”

“What do you mean?” Jess asked, painfully aware of the need in her voice.

“I’m doing this right, Detective.” Don told her with a smile.

“And what part of that was wrong?” Jess retorted.

Don chuckled. “You know what I mean. I know, as far as you’re concerned, we’ve done this before, but I haven’t. So let me take you to dinner and we’ll see what happens from there.”

Jess sighed dramatically. “Okay. I see what you mean.” She wrapped her arms around him. “You’re staying here tonight though, right?” Jess asked softly.

“If you feel you can trust me to control myself.” Don smirked. “I might end up with my hands in inappropriate places.”

“They’re only inappropriate if I complain, Detective.” Jess pointed out with a miraculously straight face. “Do you see me complaining?”

“No.” Don conceded. “I don’t see you complaining.” He pulled her to him again. “I’ll stay then. If you want me to.”

“I want you to.” Jess sighed into his shoulder. “But we should probably order pizza first.”

Several hours later, appetites taken care of, Don was sound asleep, dressed only in his boxers. His pants, jacket and undershirt were folded neatly on a chair in the corner of the room – Jess had claimed his shirt to sleep in herself.

He was pressed up against her back, his hands covering hers as she spooned against him.

But she couldn’t sleep, no matter how right it felt. She wasn’t sure why.

In the dim light, her gaze settled on her closet where, she knew, their guns were both secured in her safe.

 _His ‘n’ hers service weapons_. She thought with a grin. _Could be a market in that._

Giving up on whatever was bothering her, she rolled over to face her boyfriend and he shifted with the movement, ending up on his back.

Jess rested her head on his chest, her hand moving automatically to the scar on his abdomen.

She froze.

There was no scar.

Of _course_ there was no scar.

Her heart began thudding in her chest and she winced, concerned she would wake him. But he didn’t flinch, even when she lifted her hand to touch his face gently.

_There’s a bomb._

_There’s a bomb that’s going to almost kill him._

_There’s a bomb that’s going to almost kill him and change his life forever._

Jess closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind, but she couldn’t. She could see Don in the hospital complaining about bandage changing, in the locker room having a panic attack, in her living room sobbing into her shoulder, in his bed, asking her how she could even bear to look at the scars left behind …

_I have to stop this._

Consoling herself that she had time and prior knowledge, Jess relaxed and let sleep drift over her.

But a horrible thought struck her before she could drift off, as horrible thoughts often do.

Inside the time frame of a month, she had no idea when the bomb happened.

She had no idea what building it was.

She had no idea who planted it; she was having trouble remembering _why._

This was going to be a hell of a lot harder than she thought.


	17. Fare Game

Staring at the crime scene in front of her, Jess couldn’t help being certain that she’d been told about it.

“Anything?” Hawkes prompted.

“Give me a minute.” Jess frowned. “I’m getting there.”

Their victim was lying on her bed, her nightdress hiked up around her waist, blindfolded with her hands tied behind her back.

“Hey.” Aiden murmured suddenly. “What’s this?”

“What?” Jess asked, curiously.

“Look.” Aiden gestured her closer and shone her penlight into the victim’s mouth. “Weird abrasions.”

Jess peered at them. _I don’t believe it._ She took a step back, shook her head, and started to giggle.

The three CSIs halted in their actions to turn to look at her. “You wanna explain what’s so funny?” Danny asked. “A woman’s dead.”

Jess forced herself to control her laughter. “You’re right. I’m sorry; it’s just …” She swallowed hard. “Don told me about this case when we first met; I thought he was messing with me.”

“Anytime you feel like explaining.” Danny rolled his eyes.

“She made her living suing restaurants.” Jess explained quietly, so the officers outside couldn’t hear them. “Last night, she was at _Exotic Cuisine_ ; the chef there owned a restaurant in San Francisco that she shut down. He changed his name and moved to New York.”

“That’s not that unbelievable.” Aiden prompted.

“Those abrasions,” Jess smirked, “came from a live octopus.”

Aiden stared at her for a few seconds. “I’m not surprised you didn’t buy it.”

***

Having a lot of the information for this case meant that Jess’s part of the investigation was finished relatively quickly. Once she’d confirmed that the chef at _Exotic Cuisine_ could easily have recognised Kathleen Dunley from the papers, but she wouldn’t have known him, because the case was settled out of court, she had to leave it up to the CSIs to analyse the forensic evidence that would get them a conviction, which gave her enough time to go home, grab a shower and fix herself some lunch.

She didn’t look round as her door opened, or when a pair of arms slid around her waist.

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey yourself.” Jess tilted her head back so his kiss landed on her lips rather than her neck.

“I take it your case is going well.” Don commented, resting his head on her shoulder. “Since you’ve got time for lunch.”

“You’re here.” Jess pointed out, laying her knife down so she could turn to face him.

“Uh huh.” Don agreed. “Because I need some info.”

“I knew it.” Jess pouted. “You only want me for my brain.”

Don knew she was kidding, but he took the bait anyway. “Oh no, sweetheart. I just want you.” He proved his point by kissing her again, pulling her flush against him. His hands wandered down her sides to slip under her shirt, tugging it out of her pants.

Jess broke the kiss with a sharp intake of breath as his fingers caressed her lower back. “Behave, Detective.” She warned breathlessly.

“Make me.” Don retorted childishly, with a grin.

“Trust me, Don,” Jess ran her hand down to his ass and squeezed, before slipping out of his embrace, “you don’t wanna go there. What did you want?”

“Right now, just you.” Don answered and she could feel his gaze travelling down her back as she searched the fridge.

Jess smirked. “You still owe me dinner.” She reminded him over her shoulder. “And, as much I don’t want to stop you, we’re both still on shift.”

Don groaned. “We’re both off this evening, right?”

“I will be once this case clears up, which shouldn’t be too long.” Jess answered. “I just need to plant a few ideas in Messer’s head.”

“What kind of ideas?” Don asked warily.

“Bugs.” Jess stated.

Don looked at her for a few seconds, then evidently decided that he didn’t want to know. “Then I’m taking you to dinner tonight.”

“Don …” Jess sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “We don’t have to …”

“I want to.” Don told her quietly. “I want to take you to a nice place, see you all dressed up, watch you blush when I tell you you’re beautiful and know that I’m the luckiest guy in the world because I’m the one taking you home.” He kissed her softly. “This has nothing to do with sleeping with you, Jess; if it was, I wouldn’t have stopped you the other night.”

“Alright.” Jess sighed dramatically. “I suppose I can consent to that.” She kissed him quickly and pulled away again. “I really do need lunch now, though. What did you want to know?”

“Hmm?” Don watched her for a second, distracted as she carefully balanced the sandwich, filling barely staying between the two slices of bread. “Are you gonna get your mouth round that?”

“You’d be surprised what I can get in my mouth, Detective.” Jess teased with a wink. “’Sides, this is nothin’. You wanna see some of the concoctions my mom comes up with; they’re straight outta _Scooby Doo._ ”

Don chuckled. “I used to wish I could make sandwiches like that.”

Jess smirked. “I bet you did.” She snickered at the slightly hurt expression on his face. “Oh, come on. Everyone knows you think with your stomach.” She swatted his arm. “Now what do you want?”

“Oh right.” Don cleared his through. “Kyle Vance. Shot dead at the cemetery, but no bullet and no relation to the grave he was standing at.”

“He was waiting for the granddaughter.” Jess told him. “Or niece. Or daughter. It was a woman, I know that.”

“Granddaughter said she didn’t know him.” Don frowned.

“She didn’t.” Jess took a bite. “They both played ‘Water Gun Wars’. He was waiting to ‘assassinate’ her.”

“That’s what the balloons were for.” Don realised. “I told you about this one.”

Jess nodded. “You found her picture in his briefcase. When you went to talk to her, she assumed you were another player and ran. Very nearly got herself shot when she pulled out a water gun. Did actually, I think.” She amended.

“So who killed him?” Don asked.

Jess frowned thoughtfully. “I think he’d pretended to be a casting director or something to lure his ‘victims’ …”

“And a wedding planner and travel agent.” Don nodded.

“He set a wannabe actor up with an audition; let him get all the way through it before telling him the truth.” Jess explained. “He caught up with him with a movie gun intending to scare him …”

“But blank guns can be just as fatal when they’re close contact.” Don finished. “I got it. Alright, thanks, Jess; I’ll see you this evening.”

“What should I wear?” Jess asked.

“Dress up.” Don told her.

Jess raised an eyebrow. “Where are we going?”

Don grinned at her. “You’ll see.”


	18. The Date

Even though neither of them had set a specific time, Don knocked on her door just as Jess slipped her shoes on.

“Perfect timing.” Jess commented, opening the door.

“You look stunning.” Don told her with a disarming smile. “And these are for you.”

“Don, they’re gorgeous!” Jess carefully took the bouquet of red roses from him. “Let me just get these in water and then we can go.”

“They match your dress.” Don observed with a grin.

“Yeah, they do.” Jess agreed. “How’d you know I was planning on wearing red?”

“I didn’t.” Don rubbed the back of his neck in an endearingly sheepish way. “I just heard somewhere that red roses are supposed to mean ‘I love you’.”

“A dozen.” Jess supplied. “They do.”

“Hmm.” Don came to stand behind her, watching her slip the flowers into a vase. “I got one too many. Hang on.” He pulled one flower free and cut the stem down before slipping it into her hair. “Perfect.”

Jess smiled, turning to face him. “In case I forget to tell you later, I had a really nice time tonight.”

Don chuckled. “ _Pretty Woman_. Never took you for a chick-flick kinda girl.”

“I’m not.” Jess admitted. “But I like that line. Seemed appropriate.”

“It was. Got everything?” Don asked.

“Let me check.” Jess opened her bag and ran a quick eye over the contents. “We’re good.”

They left the apartment, Don’s hand on her lower back in an almost subconscious gesture.

Jess could tell there was something bothering him and she had a pretty good idea what it was. She was proven right about five minutes after they started driving.

“Did we ever do anything like this the first time round?” Don asked quietly.

Jess sighed. “Stop doing this, Don. You don’t have to live up to anything, you know. I love you.”

Don smiled and lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. “I love you too. First dates are always a bit unnerving for me. You’ve been here already.”

“Actually we never went anywhere I had to dress like this for.” Jess corrected.

“That was a mistake.” Don stated, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to wander over her dress.

Jess chuckled. “Well, we didn’t want anyone at the precinct to know, so we never went anywhere people could run into us and realise it was a date. We usually …” She trailed off as he pulled up.

“It’s just opened.” Don explained, mistaking her shock for confusion. “A friend of mine owed me a favour, was involved in the …” He stopped. “You’ve been here before.”

Jess nodded with a smile. “Only once. It’s a nice place. I think I might be a little underdressed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Don dismissed, getting out the car. He rounded the front and opened the door for her, helping her out. “You’ll be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“You haven’t seen the others yet.” Jess smiled as he led her inside.

“Doesn’t matter.” Don told her, kissing the side of her head. “You’re the most beautiful woman in most rooms.”

Once they were seated and they’d given the waiter their orders, Don took her hand. “Was I with you?”

“When I came here?” Jess checked, nodding. “Yes.”

“I thought you said we never went anywhere like this.” Don pointed out.

Jess didn’t answer, seeing the waiter returning with their food. She changed the subject to something more mundane and Don didn’t argue, knowing that she’d answer the question in her own time.

As soon as the waiter was out of earshot again, Jess shrugged. “It wasn’t a date. We were on duty, following a suspect. And you … were seeing someone.”

“I was seeing someone else and working with you all day?” Don asked. “Had I gone crazy?”

“Well, I thought so.” Jess grinned. “She was _awful_. Her apartment got broken into by this gang of thieves who were practically holding the city hostage …”

“That was how I met her?” Don asked, sounding disgusted.

Jess giggled. “No. You ended up chasing them through the city. It was her reaction that made Linds and I hate her though; we were trying to do witness interviews and she was on the phone.” She put on a soft simpering voice. “They were _here_ … Well, no, but Don saw one of ‘em.”

Don groaned. “What was I thinking?”

Jess patted his hand. “We’ve already established that I don’t know.”

“Well, speaking of weird dates,” Don said, “Danny turned up with some very strange food.”

“Deep-fried spiders?” Jess guessed brightly.

Don pulled a face. “I knew you had something to do with it.”

Jess grinned. “Well, I wasn’t about to deny them their first date.”

“That’s disgusting.” Don told her.

“Hey, it was Danny’s idea.” Jess protested. “I just … helped him along.”

“Oh God …” Don shook his head. “Can we change the subject please?”

Jess sniggered. “Gladly. If you own ties that _don’t_ look like they should be burned at the first opportunity, why is this the first time I’m seeing them?”

“Always with the ties, huh?” Don grumbled good-naturedly. “I don’t see what’s wrong with them.”

“And that’s why you need me.” Jess smiled sweetly.

“No, I just need you.” Don stated honestly. “Do you remember when we first met?”

“Yeah.” Jess answered slowly. “You thought I was crazy.”

“I didn’t think you were crazy.” Don disagreed. “Hot, yes. Crazy, no. But I meant the first time round.”

Jess’s smile slipped slightly. “Er, yeah, I do.”

“What is it?” Don asked quietly. “What, did we not get along or something?”

“Oh, no; it was the complete opposite.” Jess took a deep breath. “You were … in the hospital … after being injured in the line of duty.”

“Injured how?” Don prompted.

Jess shook her head. “I’d rather not answer that, Don. I need time to figure out what to do and …”

“You need my reaction to stay the same?” Don guessed.

Jess nodded. “If you know, you’ll act differently and …” She trailed off with a shrug, although she was far from calm inside.

“Alright.” Don agreed. “So I was in hospital …”

Jess nodded. “Yeah, and I’d only just moved over from Jersey. Detective Benson was my mentor and, when you woke up, visiting you got delegated to me.”

Don chuckled. “Charming.”

“I didn’t know anyone in the city yet.” Jess continued. “Not really. And I got the feeling that you were getting annoyed that everyone kept treating you like glass, so I used to stop by to watch the game with you.”

“Must have been fun.” Don commented. “You being a Devils fan and all.”

That, of course, turned the talk to sports, a friendly debate between the two teams, which, in turn, led into childhood memories.

It wasn’t long before they were sharing a dessert and Jess realised that they hadn’t lost the thread of their conversation once.

“You know this has been the easiest first date I’ve ever been on.” Don commented.

Jess nodded in agreement. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.”

Don chuckled. “You wanna get out of here or shall we go for coffee as well?”

“I’ve got coffee at home.” Jess pointed out with a soft smile.

Don smiled back. “Good point.”

Outside, the weather was significantly cooler – it was only the beginning of April, after all – and Don slipped his jacket off to wrap around her shoulders.

Any other guy might have been trying to score points, but Jess knew Don; things like that had been drilled into him as a child.

Once again, he opened the car door for her and waited until she was comfortable before shutting it and getting in himself.

“You really do look beautiful tonight.” Don told her softly as they drove back to her apartment.

Jess felt herself blush, at the sincere honesty in his voice. “Thank you.”

“Are the ties that bad?” Don asked.

Jess sniggered. “I must admit I’ve become rather fond of them.” She patted his thigh. “But I think we’d all appreciate it if you toned them down a little.”

“Maybe I should stop wearing suits.” Don commented. “What do you think?”

“That’s blasphemy. The city _expects_ you in a suit.” Jess told him. “Besides, you look good in suits.”

“Really?” Don asked with a grin.

“Oh, yeah.” Jess tilted her head, considering. “Although your ass does look better in jeans. But I’ll take what I can get.”

“But this is for the city’s sake, right?” Don teased.

“Well, _I’m_ the one sitting across from you.” Jess pointed out with a smirk.

“True.” Don conceded, pulling up outside her apartment. “We’re here.”

“Don,” Jess said seriously. “Would you like to come in? For some coffee?”

Don leaned across to kiss her, one hand sliding to caress her knee under the hem of her dress, the other cupping her face. “Do you actually mean ‘coffee’?” He asked softly, with a knowing glint in his eye.

Jess smirked at him. “Hell no.”


	19. After Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although the rest of the story is T-rated, this chapter is definitely Explicit, involving strong language and sexual situations. If you are underage, please skip to the next chapter. Thank you.

_“Don,” Jess said seriously. “Would you like to come in? For some coffee?”_

_Don leaned across to kiss her, one hand sliding to caress her knee under the hem of her dress, the other cupping her face. “Do you actually mean ‘coffee’?” He asked softly, with a knowing glint in his eye._

_Jess smirked at him. “Hell no.”_

Later, Jess would wonder how she got her door open; as soon as they reached her apartment, Don’s hand slid from her lower back to her waist, allowing him to move behind her, his mouth attaching itself to her neck.

“Mmm, Don …” Jess warned. “I need to … I can’t …”

“What’s the matter, Detective?” Don asked, smirking into her skin. “Am I distracting you?”

“We get arrested for public indecency, I’m blaming you.” Jess warned, finally getting her key into the lock.

When the door closed behind them, Jess turned to face him and kissed him hard, pushing him back against the door.

 _God, I missed this._ She mused, parting her lips to allow his tongue to slip between them, tracing every millimetre of her mouth before coaxing hers into a primal dance she had long since memorised.

“Jess …” Don moaned her name into her mouth and spun them so she was trapped between his body and the door. Seconds later, he wrenched his mouth from hers and began kissing down her neck, to the junction of her shoulder. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmured against her skin. “So beautiful.” He lifted his head. “Are you sure about this?”

Jess resisted the urge to roll her eyes and tugged lightly on his tie, undoing it. “I’m _very_ sure about this.” She tilted her head back, surveying him closely. “Are _you_ sure about this?”

Don chuckled. “Have you _seen_ yourself? How could I _not_ be sure about it?” He willingly helped her unbutton his shirt and she pushed it off his shoulders, delighting in the fact that he’d forgone an undershirt that evening.

“Just so we’re clear.” Jess leaned forwards, pressing her lips to his shoulder, before trailing them down across his chest, flicking her tongue over his nipples as she passed.

“Jess …” Don murmured. “Baby, you’ve got me at a disadvantage.”

“Don’t I always?” Jess grinned.

“Well, yeah.” Don tilted her face up to kiss her. “But that’s not what I meant. You know my body like the back of your hand.”

Jess pressed a kiss at the smooth skin that had once borne the remnants of an explosion that had almost taken his life. “Not quite.” She murmured.

If Don heard her, he didn’t ask. “Come on.” He whispered, taking her hand. “I’m not doing this up against the door.”

As he pulled his body away from hers, Jess let out a groan, but she knew he was right. So she didn’t argue as he led her into her bedroom, his touch burning through her.

But as soon as _this_ door closed behind them, it was different; he took her face in his hands and kissed her softly, almost reverently, as his thumbs traced gentle circles on the sensitive patches of skin below her ears.

Jess broke the kiss with a gasp. “Don …”

“Ssh.” Don kissed her neck, his hands sliding back to the top of her dress, gently sliding the zipper down.

Jess pulled out of his embrace, stepping back to allow the garment to fall to the floor. She stepped out of it, somehow not catching her feet in the material, suddenly filled with a seductive grace she had never possessed until she met Don, and she knew what he’d meant in her living room.

She’d done this before; it was eerily familiar and she’d been in his bed hundreds of times before, let her hands and mouth travel over every inch of him until he called out, knew what it was like to feel him make love to her in every way possible.

But he hadn’t and he didn’t.

And now she could see the slight self-doubt in his eyes.

“I love you.” Jess whispered, moving back into his arms, letting out a soft sigh as his skin met hers. “And I need you.”

Don let out a shaky breath. “God, Jessica, you’re breath-taking, you know that? Are you sure it’s me you want?”

“I love you.” Jess repeated, more firmly. “And, yes, I’m sure; why wouldn’t I be?”

“You ever heard of Helen of Troy?” Don asked.

“The face that launched a thousand ships?” Jess frowned. “Most people have. Why?”

“She’s got nothin’ on you, sweetheart.” Don told her, honesty shining in his eyes. “I’m just having a little trouble believin’ that I’m lookin’ at this perfect goddess and she wants _me_ in her bed over every other guy who’d kill to be here.”

“Well, that won’t endear them.” Jess pulled a face. “Think of the paperwork.” She cupped his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She wanted to reassure him, she _did_ , but she couldn’t wait much longer.

Thankfully, he seemed to read the desire in her eyes and his hands tightened on her waist, walking her backwards towards the bed, his mouth descending on hers once again. Anticipating his next actions, Jess managed to turn them so his legs hit the mattress first and she landed on top of him, rather than beneath him.

“Not fair.” Don muttered.

“Suck it up, Detective.” Jess kissed him, grinding her hips as she straddled his waist, effectively keeping him from moving. “This whole ‘me knowing you better than you know me’ thing won’t last forever and I, for one, would like to take advantage of it.” She sat up, flicking her hair out of her face as she ran a hand down to his belt buckle. “And you’re overdressed.”

Don propped himself up on his elbows as she undid his belt and tugged his pants down, taking his boxers with them.

Although she was still in heels, he’d toed his shoes off inside the door, so she didn’t have to bother, running her hands up his thighs to his already hard member, unable to hide the lustful gleam in her eyes.

The tip of her tongue appeared from between her lips, wetting them as her eyes slid up his body to meet his, before leaning forwards and taking the head of his cock in her mouth.

“Fuck!” Don hissed, his hips bucking of their own accord. “Jess …”

Jess didn’t respond, taking him so deep into her mouth that he hit the back of her throat, and he bucked his hips again, his hands flying to tangle in her hair.

“Jess! Fuck, baby, you need to stop …”

Reluctantly, Jess pulled up, releasing him with a soft pop. “Something wrong?”

“No.” Don swallowed hard. “You are _very_ good at that. But you’ve still got the advantage.”

“Yeah, and that doesn’t happen very often.” Jess grinned. “Can’t you just let me keep it?”

“Mmm, no.” Don flipped them so she was lying beneath him and she gaped at him.

“How’d you do that?”

“Talent.” Don answered absently, covering her upper chest with kisses. “This needs to come off.” He murmured, running a finger along the top of her bra.

“Need some help?” Jess teased lightly.

Don grinned at her. “As if.” His hands slipped beneath her for a second, before he pulled the strapless material away from her and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. “God, you’re perfect.”

Jess opened her mouth to protest, but he dropped a soft kiss on her lips to stop her, before trailing his mouth down her neck to her chest, one hand stroking her left breast softly, tweaking the nipple into a hard peak until she arched into his touch.

“Oh God …” Jess whispered, feeling her body react to his very talented ministrations.

Don took her other nipple in his mouth, suckling softly, causing her to cry out, her hips bucking as her core ached for attention.

“Don …” Jess moaned. “Please …”

“Ssh ...” Don soothed. “I’m catching up.”

“I thought we agreed I could keep the advantage.” Jess squirmed under his touch, letting out a gasp, then a moan, when he nipped her lightly.

“No, _you_ agreed you could keep the advantage.” Don corrected, moving down to her toned stomach, tenderly kissing the scars left by the shooting. “ _I_ have decided that I want to get to know every single inch of you.” He glanced up at her. “I can’t have changed _that_ much.”

“You haven’t.” Jess said quietly, seeing the hesitation in his eyes. “Or didn’t, I should say.” She smiled softly at him. “I just really want you.”

Don smiled back at her and shifted further down her body, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh. “Hey …” He stroked the skin. “When’d you get this done?”

Jess bit her lip. “I’d forgotten about that. About two days before the shooting.” She watched nervously as he traced the linked initials and the writing in French beneath it. _Thank God I decided not to go with the dates._ “I can get it removed or something if …”

“No.” Don cut her off. “The J and the D is us, right?”

“No, it stands for Justice Done.” Jess rolled her eyes. “I’m strange like that.”

Don chuckled. “Alright, I see your point. And the French?”

“‘My heart, my life, my love’.” Jess translated. “ _Mon cœur, ma vie, mon amour._ ”

“It sounds better in French.” Don kissed it again. “Leave it?”

“Of course.” Jess whispered.

“ _Go raibh maith agat._ ” Don murmured against her skin. “ _Tá grá agam duit._ ”

Jess felt a shiver run through her; she had found it a little amusing how much her speaking French turned him on, until he started using his own mother tongue in bed. She spoke about as much Gaelic as he did French, but she knew what the first part meant and she could take a guess at the second.

“ _Tá fáilte romhat._ ” She hesitated, then switched. “ _Je t’adore aussi_.”

Don lifted his head. “You speak Irish?”

Jess chuckled. “Not really. You taught me a little and I know what ‘thank you’ means. And how to say ‘You’re welcome’.”

“I teach you anything else?” Don asked with a grin, busying himself with a tender spot behind her knee.

“Hmm …” Jess pretended to think, letting out a soft moan as his fingers stroked her thighs. “I don’t think so. Although you did say I made a good corned beef and cabbage.”

Don slipped her shoes off, pressing a kiss to her left ankle before glancing up. “I think I just fell a little bit more in love with you.”

Jess chuckled. “Well, they do say that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

“Whoever ‘they’ are, they know what they’re talking about.” Don murmured, kissing his way back up her legs and hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties.

Slipping them off, he sat back, a look of utter adoration on his face. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered. “I love you so much.”

Jess would have responded, but the hand on her thigh had moved up to brush against her centre and her hips bucked with a soft groan.

“You’re so wet, baby.” Don leaned forwards and closed his lips around her clit, tugging softy.

“Don!” Jess’s hips bucked again and her hands clenched the sheets tightly. “I … you …”

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” Don asked into her skin, tracing the junction of her thigh. “You taste incredible.” He commented as an afterthought.

“I want you inside me.” Jess hissed. “That’s what.”

“As you wish.” Don slid up her body and kissed her softly. “Condom?”

“Top drawer.” Jess answered, squirming beneath him.

Don groaned at the movement. “Bear with me, darling.” He reached over and found what he was looking for, slipping it onto his cock before settling atop her again. “Look at me.” He whispered, when her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of his erection brushing against her sensitive clit.

Jess opened her eyes again, looking into his, feeling herself begin to drown in blue as his gaze seemed to penetrate right through her.

“I love you.” Don said softly.

“I love you too.” Jess responded just as quietly.

Keeping his eyes locked with hers, Don slid into her, moaning as he felt her soft inner-walls clenching down on him. “Jess …”

“Oh, Don …” Jess couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her as he began to move within her.

Though she’d been with him a hundred or more times before, this was different, more intimate – something she’d once believed wasn’t possible.

She felt as though she was flying; that if Don wasn’t holding her, she’d be floating near the ceiling. She rolled her hips against him, encouraging him to move faster.

Any noise they made was reduced to sighs, gasps and soft moans and Jess clung to him, her orgasm rushing towards her like a tidal wave that threatened to sweep her away, but she wanted it to; she needed it to; because she knew he’d keep her from drowning.

Then, as the wave drew nearer and nearer, their tangled voices began making sense.

“God, Jessica, you feel so good.” Don groaned, kissing her neck, before sliding his lips to her mouth.

Jess moaned into his mouth, gasping for breath as the kiss ended, even though it hadn’t lasted that long. “Don … don’t stop …”

“Never.” Don agreed, his voice vibrating through her throat as he trailed kisses down to her chest. “I don’t ever wanna stop, Jess; you … Oh fuck …”

They were moving faster now; with every thrust, Don seemed to catch her clit and she could feel herself right on the edge.

“Don, I’m … I’m so close, baby, please …”

“Come for me, Jess.” Don murmured, running a thumb over one of her nipples. “Come on.”

His words pushed her over the edge and she stiffened, pleasure rocketing through her, her fingers digging into his back, his name echoing off the walls of her bedroom, swiftly followed by hers as her climax triggered his own orgasm.

For a few moments, there was nothing but silence as they gulped in air.

Finally mustering up the energy, Don rolled off her and she immediately curled into his side, needing to keep the contact between them.

“Sweetheart,” Don murmured, “you need to let me move.”

Jess sighed, but knew he was right, shifting to let him toss the used condom into the trash can. Then he pulled the covers over them and pulled her back to his side, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

“Has it always been _that_ good?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

Jess smiled. “No. It’s never been _that_ good. I mean, it was always amazing, but that was … wow.”

“Yeah.” Don agreed softly, kissing her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jess murmured, nestling closer to him.

Don’s hand moved to her stomach, covering the scar on her abdomen, and she couldn’t help smiling: the same thing had happened the first time round, only the roles had been reversed.

“I swear to you, Jessica,” he whispered, “we’ll find some way of stopping this.”

“I know.” Jess kissed his shoulder.

_I just hope I can return the favour._


	20. Cool Hunter

_“Has it always been that good?” He asked in a hushed whisper._

_Jess smiled. “No. It’s never been that good. I mean, it was always amazing, but that was … wow.”_

_“Yeah.” Don agreed softly, kissing her forehead. “I love you.”_

_“I love you too.” Jess murmured, nestling closer to him._

_Don’s hand moved to her stomach, covering the scar on her abdomen, and she couldn’t help smiling: the same thing had happened the first time round, only the roles had been reversed._

_“I swear to you, Jessica,” he whispered, “we’ll find some way of stopping this.”_

_“I know.” Jess kissed his shoulder._

I just hope I can return the favour.

***

It was April, but the wind was still cold as the CSIs huddled on the rooftop of an apartment building, peering up at Mac at the top of a water tower.

“Did you know this building’s supposed to be cursed?” Lindsay asked.

Jess glanced at her. “No. I can honestly say that I didn’t. How do you know that?”

“I took a tour after I first moved here.” Lindsay explained.

Jess chuckled. “Only you, Linds, would move to NYC and take a tour like that.”

Lindsay laughed too. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Angell?” Mac called.

“Yeah?” Jess jogged over to him, carefully avoiding treading in the flower-bed at the base of the tower.

“Take a look.” Mac suggested, climbing down.

Jess scaled the ladder and looked in to where Stacie Avida floated in blood-stained water.

“Anything?” Mac asked.

“I don’t …” Jess paused climbing down again. “Wait a second. Lindsay? What did you say about the building?”

“It’s supposedly cursed.” Lindsay repeated, joining them. “There’s been a load of suspicious deaths. I took the graveyard tour.” She knelt beside the flowerbeds. “Weird. These footprints aren’t very deep.”

“She killed herself.” Jess concluded.

Mac and Lindsay looked at each other, then up at the water tower. “How did you get there?”

“Lindsay told me about this one.” Jess explained. “One of the deaths was her daughter; she choked to death on this roof-top. A doctor who lived in the building performed first-aid, but he’s using morphine and managed to crack her ribs. She faked her own murder; all the evidence will point back to him.”

“So how did we realise it was a suicide?” Mac asked.

“Like Lindsay said; the footprints aren’t deep enough if he’d carried an unconscious woman through the soil.” Jess pointed out. “But we’re still gonna need to investigate.”

“Obviously.” Mac agreed dryly.

Jess’s phone went off and she answered. “Angell.”

 _“Hey, Jess. You know a guy called Ben Hatfield?”_ Don asked, with no preamble.

“Which time?” Jess asked.

 _“This time.”_ Don answered. _“Well, if you can remember him from the first time, that’d be great, but …”_

Jess frowned. “No. And I don’t think so. Why?”

Don sighed. _“You might wanna come into the crime lab.”_

The dialling tone began and Jess looked at her phone. “Flack wants me at the lab, guys. You good?”

“We’re fine.” Mac assured her. “Everything alright?”

“I don’t know.” Jess admitted.

***

Jess wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she reached the crime lab, but the photos on the light table certainly hadn’t made the list. “What are these?”

“You.” Don answered.

Jess rolled her eyes. “I can see that, Detective. I mean where did you get them?”

“They were on our victim’s phone.” Stella told her, handing her a picture of Hatfield.

Jess shook her head. “Never seen him before. Don …” Her voice shook slightly and she cursed it.

Don wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You alright?”

“Some guy’s been stalking me, Don; of course I’m not alright!” Jess closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “What did he do?”

“Field Consultant for NHT.” Danny explained.

“Next Hot Thing.” Jess remembered. “Looked for the latest trends on the street.” She frowned, looking at the photos again. It wasn’t just her; there was another girl in them as well. “Is it just me or are they focused more on what I’m wearing than my face?”

“That’s why.” Stella realised. “He wasn’t stalking you; he was working.”

Jess frowned. “Yeah, but I’m not particularly fashionable.”

“But you dress differently to most women.” Stella pointed out. “Probably because you dress the way most women will in three years time.”

“So, what, some guy takes these pictures and his company makes millions of dollars off my back?” Jess asked. “Doesn’t seem fair to me.”

Danny picked up the photo of the other girl. “Maybe his other ‘model’ felt the same way.”

***

Stopping back at her apartment to grab some lunch, Jess stopped outside the front door of her building, a familiar sensation creeping up her spine.

She was being watched.

Spinning around, she spotted a black SUV across the street. A cell-phone whipped out of sight and she crossed over warily. “Can I help you?”

The driver – a young man in his early twenties – smiled at her. “Just working up the nerve to ask a beautiful woman if I can buy her a cup of coffee.”

“I’ve got a boyfriend.” Jess stated bluntly, turning away again. This time, she heard the click of a camera and turned again. “I can hear, you know.”

“Look, it’s not what you think.” He insisted, getting out of the car. “I’m a field consultant for …”

“You’re a cool-hunter.” Jess concluded, rolling her eyes. “I’ve heard of them. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t take photographs of me.”

When she turned away and heard the click of a camera phone once again, she stopped and turned to face him for the third time. “I thought I asked you not to take photographs of me?”

“What are you gonna do?” He asked. “Sue me?”

“No.” Jess grabbed his wrist, spun him round and cuffed him. “But you are under arrest for harassing an officer.” She flashed her badge. “NYPD, smart-ass.”

“Aww, c’mon!” He protested, as she walked him back over to the car.

“And now,” Jess said, putting a hand on his head to guide him into the back seat, “I have to skip lunch, which doesn’t make me very happy.” She got into the driver’s seat and scrolled through the photos on his phone until she reached another familiar face. “Well, well, Jenny Rodriguez.”

“Who?”

“What’s your name, kid?” Jess asked.

“Elliot Stanton.” He answered.

“Well, Elliot, Jenny is your other lovely unwitting model.” Jess told him. “And that’s the second time I’ve seen her photograph today; you know a guy named Ben Hatfield?”

“Never heard of him.”

In the rear-view mirror, Jess could see that Elliot was nervous. “That’s a nasty bruise on your face.”

“Fell over.” Elliot muttered.

“Yeah, so did Ben Hatfield.” Jess started the car. “You know, he worked as a ‘field consultant’ as well, for ‘Next Hot Thing’. Unfortunately, when he ‘fell’ he was strangled by a park swing.”

“Hey, I had nothin’ to do with that!” Elliot protested.

“First rule of policing, Elliot,” Jess told him cheerfully, “there’s no such thing as a coincidence.”

***

“It was Elliot’s boss.” Don told her in greeting.

“Dammit.” Jess sighed. “I was kinda hopin’ it was him.”

“Well, I think you effectively scared him off.” Don grinned, kissing her. “Thankfully.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “You can _not_ be jealous of a kid like that.”

“Not jealous.” Don insisted, sitting on her couch and tugging on her hand so she dropped into his lap. “Just rubs me up the wrong way; another guy having all those photos of you on your phone.”

“So how many photos do _you_ have on your phone then?” Jess teased.

Don flushed. “Seems a bit stalker-ish, Jess …”

“I’ve got pictures of you.” Jess admitted. “How many?”

“About ten.” Don grinned sheepishly.

“Any creepy ones?” Jess asked jokingly.

“No.” Don hesitated. “Well, _I_ wouldn’t call it creepy.”

“Don …” Jess held her hand out. “Lemme see it.”

Don reluctantly handed her his phone and she scrolled through the photographs. Sure enough, there were several of her, most of which she could remember him taking, although there were one or two candid shots that didn’t bother her (she had similar ones anyway).

But in the last picture, she was fast asleep, in his bed, wearing one of his button-down shirts.

“Creepy?” He asked quietly.

“No.” Jess whispered, and was surprised to realise that she wasn’t lying. “Why?”

“Because sometimes, my life sucks.” Don told her. “But every morning, when I wake up and see you lying next to me, I realise that I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

“I think I’m the lucky one.” Jess disagreed.

“And _that’s_ why I’m the lucky one.” Don snagged his phone out of her hand. “Thanks for proving me right.”

“We could go backwards and forwards with this.” Jess commented. “Let’s stop there.”

“Good idea.” Don agreed. “So you don’t mind?”

“Anyone else and I probably would.” Jess admitted. “But apparently, it’s sweet when it’s you.”

Don chuckled, a hand on her face, coaxing her in for a kiss, which she willingly accepted. She sighed against his lips and he pulled back slightly. “You okay?”

Jess smiled brightly. “Trying to remember the last time I was this happy.”

“And?” Don prompted curiously.

Jess rested her forehead against his. “I can’t.”


	21. Necrophilia Americano

The movement wasn’t quite out of Jess’s line of sight and she left the rather gory sight of Ceci Astor’s dead body to search for the source.

It wasn’t long before she found a young boy huddled beneath a display case.

“Hi there.” She greeted softly. “This is a good place to hide; you playing hide and seek?”

The child didn’t respond, but shrank back.

“It’s okay, honey.” Jess held up her badge. “I’m with NYPD. My name’s Jess.” She slid her badge across the floor to him and he examined it closely. “Do you wanna come out?”

The little boy shook his head.

“Well, can I come in?” Jess asked.

He considered this for a second, then nodded.

Jess crawled under the desks and sat beside him, crossing her legs. “What’s your name?”

He didn’t answer but held up a comic book, bearing black-and-white pictures, but no words. At the top, in small letters was the word ‘Sam’.

“Sam?” Jess looked at him. “Is that your name?”

He nodded, and she noticed a suspicious looking stain on his shirt.

“Sam, did you see what happened to Miss Astor?” Jess asked gently.

In response, Sam pushed the comic book into her hands and pointed to empty candy bar wrappers on the floor.

“Jess?” Mac’s voice called.

Sam started and moulded himself against Jess’s side, shaking.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Jess cooed, wrapping an arm around him. “That’s Detective Taylor; he works for the police too.” She raised her voice slightly. “I’m under here, Mac.”

Something about the situation was familiar, and she was sure that she’d been told about it. This time, it was Stella’s voice that floated into her head.

_“He was so good with him, Jess; wouldn’t let him get candy until he ate proper food. Ironic, really.”_

Jess frowned lightly. “Sam, where did you get those candy bars from? Could you show me?”

Sam nodded and she crawled out from under the display, ending up at Mac’s feet. “Morning, Detective Taylor.”

“Is there any reason why you’re crawling on the floor, Detective Angell?” Mac asked.

“As a matter of fact,” Jess stood up and took Sam’s hand as he emerged as well, still clutching his comic book, “there is. Come on.”

Sam tugged on her hand and led her to a vending machine.

“Mac, we need to get this opened up.” Jess told him. “There’s evidence in there.”

***

“I solved the mystery.” Don announced, kissing the side of her head.

Jess didn’t turn, concentrating on the pan on top of the stove. “What mystery?”

“The mystery of what happened to your car.” Don elaborated.

Jess turned the heat down so she could give him her full attention. He wasn’t exaggerating; it had been a mystery – one morning, she’d found a dent in the passenger door of her car, with no other damage and no sign of what had caused it.

“Golf.” He told her.

“Golf?” Jess repeated. “In the middle of Manhattan?”

“Urban golf.” Don nodded. “Tee off from all over the city and follow the ball.”

“Only in Manhattan.” Jess muttered. She stirred the contents of the pan once and held the spoon up.

“You know me too well.” Don grinned.

“Careful; it’s hot.” Jess warned.

“Yes, mom.” Don teased, tasting the sauce she was offering. “Very nice.”

“Good, because that’s all we’ve got for dinner.” Jess told him, going back to her cooking. “And don’t think I won’t get you back for that ‘mom’ comment.”

“Speaking of parents, I hear you baby-sat today.” Don said.

“Wasn’t really baby-sitting.” Jess disagreed. “The kid was seven and a witness in a murder. There was no time to get CPS involved. Where’d you hear that?”

“I didn’t.” Don admitted sheepishly. “I saw you in the break room when I stopped by the lab. Have you …?” He trailed off.

“Have I what?” Jess asked curiously.

“Have you ever thought about having children?” Don finished quietly.

Jess turned the heat off completely and retrieved two plates from the cupboard. “You know, the last time I had this conversation, we were about 2000 miles apart. And it was easier.” She didn’t give him time to respond, but refused to look at him while she spoke. “I’d love children one day. But I was shot three times in the stomach, which makes that highly unlikely.”

Don slipped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “What did you say the first time?”

Jess frowned thoughtfully. “I think I said something along the lines of maybe someday at the right time with the right guy. It was a couple of years ago; I don’t remember my exact words.”

Don kissed her neck lightly. “You think you might’ve found the right guy?”

“I think so.” Jess admitted in a whisper. “Did you want children one day?”

“Not until I met you.” Don murmured into her hair. “There’s a lot of things I didn’t think I wanted until I met you.”

“Like?” Jess prompted.

“Forever.” Don answered quietly. “I know it’s only been a month, but … I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Jess couldn’t help smiling at the tentative shyness in his voice and turned to face him, resting her head against his chest. “Hun, I was like that after a week.”

Don kissed her forehead. “Let’s just take it slow for now, huh?”

“Probably a good idea.” Jess agreed. “Although we should move a bit quicker to get dinner on the table or it’ll get cold.”

Don chuckled, releasing her. “Fair enough. What do you want to drink?”

“I’m on call tonight.” Jess mused. “I’ll just have some orange juice, thanks.”

Don poured two glasses and grabbed some cutlery out of the drawer, while she set the plates on the table. Even after the short time they’d been together, their movements were fluid and well-practiced, as though they’d been eating together all their lives.

“What made me ask the first time?” Don asked hesitantly. “Strange topic for a phone conversation.”

“It wasn’t actually on the phone.” Jess remembered. “My sister-in-law had just had a baby and I was visiting them in California. You wanted to talk face-to-face, so I set up a webcam. Halfway through the conversation, my eldest nephew came in to say goodnight and ask if I could tuck him in. When I came back, that’s when you asked me. What made you ask today?”

“Like I said, I saw you in the break room, reading him a story …” Don trailed off, reddening slightly. “You’re good with kids.”

Jess smiled, almost sadly, taking his hand across the table. “You heard what I said about children being highly unlikely, right?”

“I did.” Don lifted her hand and kissed it. “Anything that happens in the future I want to happen with you, Jess, whether that includes children or not.”

Jess’s smile brightened at that. “Speaking of children,” she said, suddenly realising she’d never asked, “how’d you start at the Y?”

Don gave her a very confused look. “What?”

“Well, that answers my question.” Jess commented, chalking another action up to the bomb. “Sorry, I just assumed you were already there.”

“Where?” Don asked.

“YMCA.” Jess answered. “You dragged me into volunteering there as well, every Saturday.”

“Huh.” Don commented. “I hate to sound callous, but I’ve never even considered something like that. Good idea though; you know why I started?”

Jess smirked, “Well, no, Don; that’s kinda why I asked.”

Don chuckled sheepishly. “Oh yeah. Hadn’t thought of that.”

“I’ve got a fairly good idea now though.” Jess added.

“How’s that?” Don asked, puzzled.

Jess shook her head. “I’ll tell you later.” She said quietly. _I hope._

“Jess, are you planning something?” Don frowned, apparently seeing the conflict in her face.

“No.” Jess answered, not entirely truthfully. Her voice shook and she cursed it.

“Jess …” Don stood up and rounded the table, kneeling beside her to take her face in his hands. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

“I can’t.” Jess whispered. “I wish I could, Don, I swear. If telling you would fix everything, I’d do it in a heartbeat. If I tell you, I risk making things a hundred times worse than they were the first time and I can’t risk that.”

“But …?” Don prompted.

“They were pretty damn bad the first time.” Jess admitted, twisting a napkin in her lap for something to do with her hands. “And there’ll come a time when you’ll question my actions and my motives, but there’s a reason. I swear there’s a reason. Just … please don’t hate me for it.”

“Jess,” Don kissed her softly, “I trust your judgement. And I could never hate you.”

Jess wasn’t entirely certain he’d be singing the same tune from a hospital bed, but she wanted to change the subject quickly, before she gave in and told him about the bomb.

“Does this have anything to do with the first meeting you told me about?” Don asked her suddenly.

Jess hesitated. “Yes.” She admitted finally. “But I …”

“You need my reaction to stay the same.” Don finished, kissing her again and straightening up. “I get it. I trust you, Jess.” He sat back down, took a bite and promptly changed the subject. “I know you told me that I said you made a good corned beef, but this is incredible. Where’d you learn to make this?”

Jess blushed; it had been embarrassing enough explaining it the first time. “Well … you’d had a really bad day. I mean, a _really_ bad day and swore you’d never eat again – not even home-made cookies changed your mind. So I invited you over for dinner – we weren’t dating yet – you had a girlfriend – but we still spent a lot of time together. I figured, given the circumstances, a home-cooked meal would be better than take-out and … you’d used my phone by mistake a few days earlier and …” She mumbled the last words inaudibly.

“And what?” Don prompted.

Jess sighed. “I called your mom.” She repeated louder. “She told me corned beef was the easiest way to get you over whatever was bothering you and … and gave me the recipe.”

“I knew it tasted familiar.” Don commented. “You know, this may be the easiest way to convince my parents that you’re not crazy.”

“Why do they think I’m crazy?” Jess asked, confused.

“They don’t.” Don assured her. “But … I get the feeling that we’ll have to tell them about the whole time-travel thing at some point.”

“Why?” Jess asked again.

“Just in case you let something slip.” Don shrugged. “You knew them before; you know that sometimes you forget what you’ve been told this time and what you knew already …”

Jess pulled a face. “Yeah, you’ve got a point.”

Don grinned. “You’re cute when you do that.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jess smiled at him. “Do what?”

“When you pull a face like that, your nose crinkles.” Don told her honestly. “It’s cute.”

Jess felt her face heat up. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Well, you wouldn’t, would you?” Don pointed out.

“Oh yeah.” Jess chuckled.

“I guess I never told you that the first time round.” Don hedged.

Jess shook her head. “No … and I’m fairly sure I’d remember if you had.”

“Was there anything you didn’t tell me the first time round?” Don asked curiously.

Jess was silent for a moment, considering her answer. There were a _few_ things, but none that would make sense right now. “Well … I never told you how much it hurt seeing you with other women.”

“I promise,” Don murmured, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, “you won’t ever feel that way again.”

Jess smiled softly. “I knew that the second you first kissed me.”


	22. Live or Let Die

It was safe to say Aiden was pissed off.

Jess had been expecting a confrontation at some point, but she was expecting to get at least one cup of coffee in beforehand.

When she left her apartment to find Aiden leaning against her car, she knew it would come sooner rather than later.

“Hey.” She greeted breezily.

“She’s dead.” Aiden stated bluntly. “Lillian Stanwick is dead because DJ Pratt killed her. I could have …”

“Nothing has happened this time that didn’t last time.” Jess whispered. “There was no evidence to put him away, which is why you came so close to tampering with evidence and how you got yourself fired.”

“But …” Aiden began.

“You were right.” Jess said quietly. “COD wasn’t exhaustion or frustration. It was blunt force trauma. I don’t know Lillian Stanwick; I do know you. So please, for the love of God, try not to do anything stupid.”

Aiden seemed to shrink. “I thought so.” She murmured. “When … How?”

Jess shook her head. “I’m saying nothing. Just stay away from him and you’ll be fine.”

“Jess …” Aiden began.

“I mean it.” Jess cut her off.

“No.” Aiden shook her head. “Over there. That Mercedes.”

Jess glanced over her shoulder to see two men loading what looked like an ice-box into the trunk. That in itself wasn’t that strange, but the furtive looks they were casting around definitely struck her as suspicious.

_“It wasn’t the blood; it was the organs. Haven’t tossed my cookies like that since I found a stolen frozen liver in the trunk of a car.”_

Don’s voice floated into her head, explaining – though he didn’t have to – his violent reaction to the scene that had met them at Marty Pino’s apartment.

 _Better remember that._ She noted. She’d never met Marty the first time round and was finding it difficult to reconcile the cheerful young ME she’d met once or twice with the disgusting story Don had brought home.

Jess frowned, pulling her cellphone out. She made sure one of the men was looking her way and pushed her jacket aside so they could see her shield, holding up her phone as though she was checking a photo against their faces.

True to her guesses, he dropped his end of the cooler and ran for it.

“Got him.” Aiden took off. “NYPD, freeze!”

“Is there a problem, Detective?” The second man asked calmly.

“You tell me.” Jess suggested. “You know why your friend bolted as soon as he saw I was a cop?”

“Maybe he’s got an outstanding parking ticket.”

“You planning on a picnic?” Jess asked, nodding to the cooler. “Bit cold, isn’t it?”

“That against the law now, Detective?”

Jess smiled. “Of course not. I’m just trying to make conversation. You see, when my partner catches your friend, and she will, I’m gonna have to sit in interrogation for hours trying to work out why he ran, which means a lot of paperwork. I was hoping you could clear that matter up for me.”

“No idea. Sorry.”

Jess’s phone beeped and she glanced down at it. “Just a second, sir.” She said, putting out a hand to stop him from closing the trunk. “I’m afraid I need to ask you to open that cooler.”

“This is harassment!”

“No, this is an APB on this Mercedes in connection with an ongoing case.” Jess corrected. “Open the cooler please.”

He held her gaze for a moment, then took off running.

It was a short chase. Jess had known the moment she asked that he was going to run and she was obviously in a much better shape that he was.

Within a few minutes, he was in cuffs, sitting in the back of her car, still ranting about harassment.

Jess returned to the Mercedes, just as Aiden returned with his friend, also in cuffs.

“Has the phrase ‘NYPD freeze’ _ever_ worked?” She asked.

“Not that I’ve seen.” Jess slipped a pair of gloves on and lifted the lid of the ice-box. “Hello!”

“Looks like we found the missing liver.” Aiden commented. “I’ll call Danny.”

***

“You were right.”

When Don arrived at her apartment that evening, Jess had every intention of asking him if he knew what Aiden was doing that evening and making sure that her hunch that Danny would take care of her was correct.

But the look in his eyes was enough to stop her cold.

“What about?” Jess asked quietly.

Don took a deep breath. “Dean Truby is no longer a detective with the NYPD.”

Jess had been expecting that sooner or later, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t surprised. “What happened?”

“Just what you said.” Don answered flatly. “Glocks on the kitchen table, African-American male, 5’9. When Truby, Greenburg and Marks came out with the drugs, I asked him how much he had. He muttered something about being screwed anyway and said 53kg, all in the same place.”

“They swore they’d only found 50?” Jess asked.

Don nodded. “There’s a little known protocol that says we have to listen to dealers and pat down the officers on scene.” He shook his head. “No one follows it, because …”

“But you did?” Jess guessed.

“Looks on their faces …” Don sighed. “There was an awkward few seconds; I’d gotten the two officers who’d been in the kitchen with me to take the perp down to the squad car. I pointed out to them that his confession was down in my memo book now, so I had to follow protocol …” 

_“Flack, it’s us.” Greenburg frowned. “You know we wouldn’t …”_

_Don laughed. “Well, yeah, Dan, of course I do. I just don’t want the captain on my ass when he reads this, ‘cause you know he will.”_

_“He’s right.” Marks pointed out. “Come on, it’s a quick pat down; no one else is gonna know and it covers our asses when captain reads that confession.”_

_Greenburg sighed. “I still don’t like it.” He muttered. “But I suppose quiet in here is better than IA dragging us through the mud. Alright, go ahead.”_

_Flack smirked. “You wanna assume the position or what?”_

_“Don’t push it.” Greenburg warned with a hint of a smile. “Actually, this is kinda funny.”_

_“I know.” Marks put a hand on Truby’s shoulder and squeezed lightly before searching him. “Don’t look so tense, Dean; it’ll all be over in …”_

_“What’s up, Rob?” Don asked, straightening up. “Alright, you’re clean, but don’t let me catch you hanging around here anymore.”_

_“Yes, officer.” Greenburg joked, with mock-fear in his voice._

_“Rob?” Don asked again, when he got no response._

_“Flack …” Marks said quietly. “In his pocket.”_

_The smile on Don’s face faded as he stared at the 3kg pack of cocaine in his colleague’s hand._

“I never thought you’d lie to me.” Don whispered. “But I still didn’t want to believe it.”

“Better now than after a dead teenager in six months time, Don.” Jess said quietly. “I know that doesn’t help.”

“Not really, no.” Don sighed.

“Anything I can do?” Jess asked.

“Yeah.” Don whispered, so quietly that she wasn’t entirely sure she heard him. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her close, walking back towards the couch at the same time. Her legs collided with the cushion and she sat down heavily, with Don sprawling almost on top of her.

His head rested on her stomach, his body curled up half at her side, half on her lap, and he breathed yet another heavy sigh.

“Yes.” He repeated, slightly louder. “Just hold me.”

Jess ran her fingers through his hair, massaging lightly as she did. “Anything.”


	23. Super Men

There was something about the scene that niggled at the back of Jess’s mind. She knew she should be bothered by the death of a young man with everything to live for, but something was echoing in her memory – not quite something she could grasp, but there nonetheless.

Lindsay was already there, photographing the body, when Danny arrived, setting his kit down inside the hotel room. “Tyrell Mann.” He sighed. “They called him Superman.”

“With good reason.” Lindsay responded. “45 college touchdowns, over 3000 career rushing yards and he averaged 7.2 yards a carry.”

“Don’t tell me you know a little something about football, please.” Danny groaned.

Lindsay chuckled. “Why? Is that so surprising?”

“No, just dangerous.” Danny told her, completely seriously. “I might ask you to marry me.”

Jess choked on her coffee, before lapsing into giggles.

“What’s with her?” Danny asked in bewilderment.

“I’d have thought that was obvious.” Lindsay answered. “You’ve never exactly hidden the fact that you don’t do long-term relationships, the idea of you getting married is kind of funny.”

“Not that funny.” Danny frowned, before smirking. “Unless she actually went to our wedding in the future.”

Jess managed to get her giggles under control. “No.” She said, clearing her throat. “I didn’t.”

It wasn’t a lie, she reflected, as Danny knelt to examine the body. Danny and Lindsay had married so quickly the first time that, aside from Mac and Stella, everyone had found out after the fact.

_Actually, that’s a fair point … what do I do about that?_

Humour sufficiently diminished, Jess turned back to the current case, deciding to put off worrying about Danny and Lindsay until later. “Okay, before you ask … I’m sure one of you mentioned this one, but … I have no idea.”

“We guessed.” Danny sighed, kneeling down to look under the couch. “Hey …” He reached under and pulled out a small object. “What’s this?”

Lindsay joined him. “It looks like a high school ring to me. Looks like blood.”

“Wait a minute …” Jess murmured, crouching beside the body. She slipped on a glove and prodded his knees carefully. “Injury.” She commented, almost to herself. “It was an accident.”

“You’ve lost us.” Danny told her.

“I remember.” Jess looked up. “That ring was his, but the blood isn’t. That’s the motive.”

“What’s the motive?” Lindsay asked blankly.

“Whatever caused the blood has something to do with an injury to his knee.” Jess explained. “I know it was an accident, but that’s what you need to focus on.”

Danny and Lindsay exchanged a look. “We still need a murder weapon.”

Jess frowned and flipped through her notes. “Keep processing.” She told them. “I’ve got an idea.” She left the hotel room, her mind racing.

According to the witness who’d found the body, he’d come to get the room service cart, but never mentioned removing it.

After a quick chat with the man in question, Jess confirmed that he hadn’t moved it anywhere and that anything found on the cart aside from food would be placed in a lost property cupboard.

Sure enough, after half an hour of searching, she found a football pump in one of the boxes. “Call me crazy,” she said as she returned to the room, “but that looks like blood.”  
Danny took a swab and sprayed it with luminol. “Yep, definitely blood.”

“And that explains how he died when there’s so little blood.” Lindsay realised. “The air entering his bloodstream would cause a valve lock. He’d have died in seconds.”

Jess ran an eye over her notes, just making sure she’d written down her thought process in her memo book. Satisfied, she flipped it shut and tucked it away. “You got the scene?”

“We’re good.” Danny told her. “ME can come in now. You riding with the body?”

“I suppose someone has to sign him over.” Jess sighed. It wasn’t her favourite part of the job – not even close – but someone had to do it and Danny and Lindsay weren’t anywhere near finished with processing.

So the ME assistants transferred the body into a body bag and she accompanied them out to the van, sitting in the front with the driver.

 _I miss Peyton_. She thought absently, remembering the last time she’d ridden in the morgue truck. A twinge of pain ran through her head at the memory. Vaguely, she wondered when Peyton would join the team and added something else to her list of things to remember. _Note to self: when someone decides to steal a body, make sure they don’t hit you with a medical kit._

Sid wasn’t in the morgue, but Marty Pino was, with a young brunette, who seemed annoyed at something.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I can’t pass this up!” He was saying. “Oh, hi Detective. Annie, this is Detective Angell. Angell, this is my wife, Annabelle.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jess shook her hand on autopilot, trying not to think of the night Don had told her of this woman’s murder.

Of course, it wasn’t possible, especially when Annabelle turned to kiss her husband goodbye and Jess saw the love in his eyes. How could this man have ever left his wife’s dead body in a motel room and worry more about getting the drugs than her killer?

“Detective?” Marty prompted. “Are you alright?”

Belatedly, Jess realised that Annabelle had left and that her eyes had filled with tears. “Oh, yeah, sorry. You two just remind me so much of my brother and his wife … I haven’t seen them in ages.” She wiped her eyes hurriedly. “And I never do well in Autopsy.”

“Not many people do.” Marty gave her a crooked smile. “You got the evidence log?”

“Yeah.” Jess handed the form over and he signed the chain of custody. “Don’t you usually work the night shift?”

“Yeah, but when I heard what had happened,” Marty unzipped the body bag, intrigue shining on his face, “and the Man came in … Tyrell Mann … I could not pass up this autopsy. You got a murder weapon?”

“Found a football pump with traces of blood.” Jess answered. “No proof it’s his blood yet though. Very little blood at the scene and no sign of defensive wounds.”

“Well, that would be consistent with the wound.” Marty bent to examine it. “You wanna stick around?”

“No, thank you.” Jess beat a hasty retreat. “The paperwork on this one is gonna be a nightmare.”

***

That evening, paperwork done and time to spare, Jess surveyed handiwork with satisfaction. Luckily, when she had moved to New York – returned to New York? – she had managed to get hold of her old – new? – apartment, which meant that she didn’t have to spend three years without knowing about the secret compartment at the back of the bedroom closet.

The building was quite old and she assumed that it had once been a place to hide young children in times of danger, but she used it now to pin up a large wall-chart, big enough to act as a monthly calendar for the next three and a half years.

She started by marking the date she originally joined NYPD, which allowed her to count back and estimate a two week window for the bombing. That still wasn’t very helpful, but it was better than she thought. She was also able to mark May 25th as the day Aiden had been murdered – or at the very least discovered dead – the first time.

From there, she added the date that she and Don had become partners – and tentatively noted the paintball murder that had occurred at the same time (although, with Truby in jail, that was unlikely to happen this time round) – and the date of their first kiss.

Finally she noted Lucy’s birthday, with a question mark.

Danny and Lindsay were going to be difficult this time round. Jess knew full well that the only reason that Lucy had been conceived was that emotions had been running high when they were reunited and they weren’t thinking straight.

_But the only reason they broke up was because Danny cheated, which was because Rikki was hysterical, which was because Reuben died._

Jess hesitated and circled December 2007, leaving herself a note. She was sure she could slip Reuben into conversation and if she could get Danny to tell her when and where he was taking the kid to the bike blessing, she could ‘bump into them’ and, with any luck, save Reuben’s life.

She looked back at September 22nd. _Sorry, Lucy-Lu. But children who are already born take precedence. Besides, it’s not like you’ll never get born. It just might be a bit later._

A knock at her door caught her attention and she took a step back, sliding her clothes back along the rail they hung from.

“Jess?” Don’s voice called.

Jess rolled her eyes. “In here.”

“Do you always hide in your closet?” Don asked, his voice closer this time.

“I’m not hiding.” Jess informed him, ducking out to see him leaning against the door frame. “I was decorating.”

“Your closet?” Don smirked.

“No, the hidden compartment at the back.” Jess explained, fishing in her pocket. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Don asked.

“It’s a key.” Jess grinned. “You know, one of those small things you use to open doors. I figure this way my spare key might actually _stay_ my spare key.”

“Are you sure?” Don checked.

Jess shrugged. “You let yourself in all the time anyway. What’s the difference?”

Don chuckled. “Oh, honey, you’re so romantic.”

Jess sniggered, winding her arms around his neck to kiss him. “Isn’t that my line?”

“You want romantic, Jess? Because I can do romantic.” Don cleared his throat and pulled his own set of keys from his pocket, sweeping her into his arms as he did. “Jessica, my darling, I give you the key to my apartment as you have already taken the key to my heart.”

Jess burst into giggles. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Don grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, but it’s better than yours.”

Jess held up the key. “Did you get this copied?”

Don turned slightly red. “Er, no. No, I didn’t. I’m gonna need that back.”

Jess sniggered. “You’re right. There’s nothing more romantic than badly planned spontaneity.”

“Shut up.” Don murmured, catching her lips with his briefly. “So do I ever get to see these decorations?”

“One day maybe.” Jess answered absently, tilting her head back to look him in the eye. “It more for my sanity than anything else.”

“You alright?” Don asked quietly, brushing her hair from her face.

Jess sighed. “Not really, no.” She bit her lip, making a split decision. “It’s Marty Pino.”

“What about him?” Don pressed.

“Don, he’s either already mixed up in some bad things or he’s going to.” Jess told him in a whisper. “He was fired from the ME’s office for falsifying time slips … he …” She swallowed hard. “God, it was awful.”

“Jess?” Don sat down on her bed, pulling her into his lap. “Baby, you’re shaking.”

“It was awful, Don.” Jess repeated. “I wasn’t even there and I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want you to go through that again.”

“Through what again?” Don prompted. “What happened?”

Jess took a shaky breath and closed her eyes, remembering the smell of blood when he walked into her apartment, how he had said nothing, but taken her to bed and made her scream, before curling up in her arms and telling her …

“He sold drugs to pay off his gambling debts.” She whispered. “Liquidised the organs from dead addicts that came into the morgue … When he was fired, he … He created a new supply.”

“He killed them?” Don concluded. “How many?”

“I don’t know.” Jess admitted in a whisper. “But the dealer he sold to … he … he killed Annabelle.”

Don sucked in a breath. “Marty’s wife?”

“She tried to talk them out of hurting him.” Jess explained, the words coming in a rush. “And got shot for the trouble. And he escaped out the bathroom. He ran, Don. And when the maid came by and decided to help herself to the pack of coke on the table, did he tell NYPD who _murdered_ his wife? No, he went after the drugs instead.” She realised belatedly that tears were spilling down her cheeks. “I met her today, you know. And I watched him kiss her goodbye. And I knew what was going to happen to her. And I can’t stop it.”

Don stroked her hair, kissing her tears away. “So what now?”

“I don’t know.” Jess admitted. “But I don’t know how much longer I can do this without cracking up … There’s just so much pressure resting on me and …”

“Jess, it’s okay.” Don soothed, lying back with her in his arms. “No one’s putting any pressure on you, sweetheart.”

“I know.” Jess murmured into his collar. “But I am. Haven’t you ever had a case where you’ve wished you could go back and save them?”

“All the time.” Don whispered. “I think we all have.”

“Right.” Jess lifted her head. “I’ve done that. But I can’t save them.”

“You can never save them all.” Don told her quietly. “You know that.”

“I know.” Jess sighed. “It’s you lot I’m worried about. What if something happens to you that I could have stopped, but didn’t?”

Don rubbed her back. “We trust you, Jess. Even if you know about something, that doesn’t make you infallible. It won’t be your fault and none of us will blame you.”

“But …” Jess began.

“Jessica,” Don interrupted firmly, “you remember when you told me there’d be a time when I’d question your motives? I told you that I trust your judgement, remember?”

Jess nodded wordlessly.

Don smiled and kissed her. “I completely understand that you feel under pressure. No one is expecting you to save the world, Jess. You’re a detective, not a superhero.”

“I know.” Jess kissed his shoulder and nestled into his side.

Don kissed her forehead. “You’re _my_ superhero, Jess. Isn’t that enough?”

“I guess so.” Jess sighed, closing her eyes. “I just hope that doesn’t change.”

His arms tightened around her. “Never.”


	24. Run Silent, Run Deep

The sound of a phone ringing in the middle of the night was familiar to Jess, but that didn’t make it any more welcome.

As she slowly blinked sleep away, Don groaned beneath her. “That yours or mine?”

Jess lifted her head and peered at the nightstand. “Mine.” Stifling a yawn, she reached over to grab it.

“Oh good.” Don muttered. “That means I can go back to sleep.”

Jess scowled and flicked the light on. “Nuh-uh. If I have to be awake, so do you.”

“Jess …” Don groaned.

“I’ll make it up to you.” Jess promised, dropping a kiss on his mouth before flipping her phone open. “Angell.”

_“Jess …?”_

Lindsay’s tear-filled voice sent a tremor of déjà vu through her and she blinked twice. “Linds, you’re not in Montana, are you?”

 _“What?”_ Lindsay asked, apparently thrown by the question. _“No, I’m in New York. Why would I be in Montana?”_

“Never mind.” Jess said quickly, settling back into Don’s arms. “What’s wrong?”

_“It’s Danny.”_

Jess sat up again abruptly. “What happened to Danny?” Her mind raced as she stared at Don wide-eyed, their conversation from a few weeks ago floating into her mind.

_“Nothing, but he’s in big trouble.”_

Jess groaned. “They’ve found him, haven’t they? The body with Danny’s DNA nearby.”

 _“You knew?!”_ Lindsay almost shrieked down the phone.

Jess winced. “Yes, I knew. I warned them all when I first got here, I’m sure I did.” She glanced at Don, who was nodding at her. “Look, are you with him?”

There was a pause. _“Yes.”_ Lindsay answered, almost reluctantly. _“Aiden and I took him home, he’s a little shaken.”_

“Good, stay with him.” Jess told her, a half-formed plan floating into her head. “I’ll sort this out.”

 _“Alright.”_ Lindsay agreed. _“Sorry if I woke you.”_

“It’s fine.” Jess lied, stifling another yawn. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hung up.

“You said Louie sorted it last July.” Don reminded her.

“I did.” Jess agreed, dropping her phone back on the nightstand. “What I didn’t mention was that he got beaten into a coma for his troubles and his family pulled the plug three months later.”

Don swore under his breath. “But if we need Louie to sort it …”

“We do.” Jess sighed. “He wore a wire and got a confession.”

“How do we stop that from happening?” Don asked.

Jess shrugged. “I’m going to warn him.”

“And how do you know that’ll work?” Don prompted.

Jess smiled weakly. “I don’t.”

***

Jess arrived at the bar just as Mac left, which was lucky because it helped her figure out who Danny’s brother actually was.

Louie Messer was sat astride his motorbike, frowning at his hands, looking, for a second, strikingly like his brother, although the actual resemblance was only slight.

“Louie Messer?” She asked, approaching him. “My name’s Detective Angell.”

“I know about Danny.” He said quietly, but not rudely. “You don’t need to tell me.”

“I’m not here to tell you about that.” Jess told him. “I’m here to ask you to stick around for a bit longer, because I’ve got a long story.”

“What’s in it for me?” Louie asked.

“Well, we get to figure out a way to help your brother.” Jess checked her watch. “And I’m off shift, so I’ll buy you a drink.”

Louie’s mouth twitched in a smirk. “Alright.” He led her back into the bar and she signalled the bartender as they slipped into a booth. “What’s up, Detective?”

Jess pushed her jacket down over her badge, for once not wanting to draw attention to it or her sidearm, which was currently in her bag. “I know what happened the night that kid died. I know that you and Danny were going to Atlantic City when you ran into some of the other Tanglewood Boys. I know that you realised that kid was as good as dead and that you pushed Danny until he left so he wouldn’t get involved. I’ll admit I don’t know who pulled the trigger, but I do know that you know and that you’re about to do something incredibly stupid.”

Louie tipped his bottle to her in a salute. “You’re good, I’ll give you that. But why should I listen to you? And how do you know all that?”

Jess leaned in. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Yeah.” Louie murmured. “Why?”

“When I joined NYPD last July it was for the second time.” Jess said quietly. “I was shot in 2009 – bear with me, the story gets better – and woke up in 2005.” She sat back. “Now you can choose whether or not to believe me. But if you don’t change your plan, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

“That a threat?” Louie asked mildly.

“No, a warning.” Jess corrected darkly.

Louie examined his beer bottle. “Let me ask you something. If I don’t do this, will you be able to prove that Danny wasn’t involved?”

Jess sighed. “No. No, I think what you’re planning is the best option, but …”

“There can’t be a police presence.” Louie warned.

Jess rolled her eyes. “Please. You really think I’m stupid enough to suggest that? I wasn’t born yesterday. No, I’ve got another idea. I just need to know whether it’ll work …”

***

The next evening, Louie Messer slowly walked away from Sonny Sassone and his thugs. His heart was thudding against the wire taped to his chest, but he couldn’t speed up or he’d know something was wrong.

“Hey Louie!” Sonny called suddenly. “How do we know you won’t go to the cops?”

Louie turned around with a smirk. “Sonny, I got better things to do with my time than sit in a metal box and hang myself. First, no one’d believe me over you. Second, Danny’ll get himself outta this mess without any help from me, it runs in the family. Third,” he jerked his head towards the warehouse door, “I gotta girl waitin’ on me and I ain’t stupid enough to keep her waitin’ any longer.” He turned away again, this time knowing Sonny had followed.

Outside, Jess was leaning against his bike, casually checking her make-up in a hand mirror. It was heavier than usual and she was wearing a very tight, very low cut, very short dress. She couldn’t help grimacing at her reflection, but she was undercover.

_Last time I was wearing a dress this short though, Don was nearby, armed and alert._

This time, however, she was alone. The skirt of her dress flared slightly, which had allowed her to strap a gun onto her thigh so it wasn’t noticeable, but if something kicked off, they only had surprise on their side.

Louie emerged from the warehouse, and she slipped the mirror away, pasting a smile on her face. When he reached her, she could see his hands shaking slightly and she kissed his cheek. “Got it?”

“Got it.” He murmured, mounting the bike. “Ready?”

Jess climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and taking the opportunity to glance over at the men outside the warehouse. They were eyeing her like a piece of meat and had clearly decided that no man in his right mind would choose an interrogation room over her. “Ready.”

Louie kicked down on the starting pad and the bike roared into life, allowing them to take off into the night.

“What are the chances of them following us?” Jess asked over the noise of the engine.

“High.” Louie admitted. “So we can’t head straight to the precinct.”

“I got a better idea.” Jess told him. “Follow my lead.” Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a black SUV driving behind them, and quickly mapped the route in her head. Giving him directions, she took him into Manhattan, through several backstreets, and down short-cuts until they lost the SUV in traffic.

“Alright, take a left and slow down.” Jess told him, rummaging in her bag. She pulled out her ID and leaned forwards. “Right, there’s a post coming up with a scanner on it; I need to get close enough to scan this.”

Louie pulled the bike alongside it and she leaned over. The scanner gave a beep and the barrier to the crime lab parking structure lifted, permitting them entry.

Only once they were safely inside, encased in darkness, did she allow herself a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

“I gotta hand it to you, Detective.” Louie commented as he killed the engine. “That was a good plan.”

“You sound surprised.” Jess commented, climbing off the bike. “Now I just need to get outta this damn dress.”

“Need a hand with that?” Louie smirked.

Jess laughed. “Nice try. Got a boyfriend.” She led him to the elevator. “Well, I guess it’s time for the moment of truth.” As the doors closed, she scanned her ID again and looked over at him. “You know you’ll probably have to testify. And there’s a chance that …”

“I know.” Louie cut her off. “I shoulda paid for this a long time ago, Detective. I know what I’m doing.”

“Alright.” Jess said quietly. “Just so as you know.”

Outside Mac’s office, Aiden and Lindsay were pleading Danny’s case, while Don stood behind them, a supportive hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

“Of course I don’t believe Danny had anything to do with it.” Mac sighed. “But our job is to listen to the evidence, not our guts.”

“But the evidence isn’t right, Mac.” Aiden insisted. “We’re interpreting it wrongly, you know that.”

“It’ll be alright, Mess.” Don murmured. “Jess’ll come through. She has to.”

“There’s no evidence to say that Danny had anything to do with this kid’s murder.” Lindsay added. “That cigarette butt places him at the scene, but there’s no evidence that he had anything …”

“And there’s no evidence to say that he didn’t.” Mac countered.

“Yeah there is.” Louie disagreed quietly.

Five faces turned towards them and five jaws dropped.

Jess couldn’t help smirking. “Told you I’d sort it.” She said, slipping past them. “Don’t say a word.” She warned, when Don opened his mouth. “I need to change.”

Don closed his mouth again. “Okay, you all saw that, right?” He gave Louie a look understood by men across the world. It simply said: Explain quickly or else.

“I found Sonny.” Louie pulled a tape machine out from under his shirt. “And I got a confession. Detective Angell explained that the first time they didn’t believe that I wouldn’t go to the cops and … well, it got messy apparently.” He focused on Danny. “I’m sorry, kid. I thought I was protecting you, pushing you away, but … I guess I wasn’t, huh?”

Don squeezed Danny’s shoulder and released him, heading off in search of Jess. He found her in the locker room, back in jeans and t-shirt, make-up scrubbed off and hair pulled into a messy ponytail.

Slipping his arms around her waist, he rested his chin atop her head. “You’re so beautiful.”

Jess gave him an incredulous look in the mirror. “You’re kidding, right? I’ll admit I looked ridiculous earlier, but I look a mess now.”

“You didn’t look ridiculous.” Don disagreed. “Out of character, yes, but you looked pretty damn hot dressed up like that.”

Jess raised an eyebrow.

“Not that you don’t always look amazing.” Don backtracked. “I’m just saying that … most women wouldn’t have made that look as classy as you did.”

“Wasn’t really the look I was going for, Don.” Jess chuckled. “But nice save.”

Don sighed. “All I mean is that … you look stunning dressed up, Jess, of course you do. Most women do, that’s the point. But you … you don’t need all the make up and the tight clothes and the gimmicks, because you’re the most beautiful woman in the world without it.”

Jess blushed lightly. “You’ve got a hell of a way with words, Don.” She turned to face him, leaning against the wall. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Don trailed a hand down her face. “What was the plan anyway?”

Jess shrugged. “I just figured that maybe if Tanglewood thought he was gonna get lucky, they’d be less inclined to believe he’d betray them and less likely to kick the shit out of him.”

“Good idea.” Don complimented. “You ever done any undercover ops before?”

Jess chuckled. “Yeah, but you were always watching my back. I won’t deny I was a little nervous.”

“Well, next time you go under, make sure I’m there, alright?” Don kissed her forehead. “I know you can take care of yourself, but it’s my job to watch your back.”

“They’d have known something was wrong.” Jess pointed out. “Only reason I went with a dress and not a mini-skirt was so I could hide a gun on me.”

“You mean you were packin’ earlier?” Don asked, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe ‘pretty damn hot’ was an understatement.”

“Men.” Jess rolled her eyes. “Are you trying to drop hints?”

Don pulled a face. “How come you never dress up like that for me?”

“Because I actually _like_ you.” Jess answered. “Dressing like that … I don’t like it. It makes me feel … I dunno … cheap, I guess, even if I do look ‘pretty damn hot’. You deserve better than that.” She smirked. “Tell you what, how about you take me home and we’ll think of something else. I still need to make last night up to you.”

“So you do.” Don kissed her softly, managing to keep an appropriate amount of distance between them, seeing as they were still at work. “You got any ideas?”

“You pick.” Jess suggested. “Anything you want.”

“Anything?” Don asked in a low voice. “You’re sure?”

“Oh yeah.” Jess smiled seductively, tugging on his tie. “You’re the one who’s getting lucky tonight. And something tells me the dress won’t be required …”


	25. All Access

Sometimes, work got so hectic that Don and Jess only got to see each other for a few minutes a day. So, when both cases were closed, and they finally had some time to themselves, each second was precious.

So, of course, once again, they had been interrupted by a phone ringing.

“Ignore it.” Don advised, nibbling on her neck.

“Can’t.” Jess gasped out, biting her lip. “Might be important.”

Don sighed. “You’re off-duty, Jess.”

“It’s Stella.” Jess stated, checking the ID. “Until that boyfriend of hers is out of the picture, I’m never off-duty.”

At this, Don stopped complaining, although he did shift in his seat and adjust his pants. “Fine.”

Jess rolled her eyes and answered her phone. “Hey, Stell.”

_“Jess, you were right. He’s a complete bastard.”_

Jess stood up and took the call to the kitchen, ignoring Don’s puzzled look. “What did he do?”

 _“He posted a movie of us on the internet.”_ Stella hissed. _“Having … Well, you know.”  
_

Jess scowled. “What a sick … Who does that?”

 _“I know!”_ Stella agreed. _“And then he turns up at work wanting to know why I’ve been ignoring his calls.”_

Jess shook her head. “Unbelievable. He’s gone then?”

_“Oh, yeah. I’m not staying with someone like that. He …”  
_

Jess nodded understandingly, despite the fact Stella couldn’t see her, but there was still something bothering her. She couldn’t see Stella confiding something like this in Don – not unless she actually wanted Frankie dead – so why would Don hate him so much? Unless her being there had changed whatever it was or stopped it from happening or …

_“Jess.”_

Jess stiffened, hearing the sudden tremor in Stella’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

_“There’s someone in my apartment.”  
_

“Stella, correct me if I’m wrong,” Jess said, her voice low, “but you don’t tell guys where you live so you have somewhere to go home to, right?”

 _“That’s right.”_ Stella confirmed.

“Right, don’t hang up.” Jess told her, slipping her shoes on. “Pretend you have, but don’t. We’re on our way.”

“Jess?” Don questioned.

“Shoes.” Jess said bluntly, opening the lock-box where she kept her weapon. “Quickly. You know Stella’s address?”

“Yeah, of course.”  Don hurried after her, reciting it almost automatically. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know at the moment.” Jess admitted, keeping her phone glued to her ear. “But I’d rather be proven paranoid than right.”

_“Get the hell out of my apartment.”_

As they jumped into Don’s car, Jess gave him a look previously reserved for _I want you right now, so get us home before we get arrested for indecent exposure._

It now had a completely different meaning, one she didn’t have to vocalise, but the only change in his reaction was that he pulled the portable police lights out of the glove compartment and set them on the dashboard, turning on the siren.

A scream came through the phone and Jess started. “Stella? Stella?”

A low ringtone came through the line, signalling that the call had been cut off.

“Stella?” Jess hung up. “I lost her, Don.”

Don swore under his breath and they sped up, cars pulling over to the side of the road to let them through.

Jess dialled Mac’s number, her heart racing.

_“Taylor.”_

“Mac, Stella’s apartment, now!” Jess stated. “No time, just get there.” She hung up again, not bothering to wait for a response, and promptly dialled the radio code.“This is Detective Angell; we have a possible 10-34, domestic, 2344 Lexington Avenue, officer involved, apartment 12 Charlie. Detective Flack and I are en route.”

_“10-4. Copied to all units.”_

Jess hung up. “I just hope we’re not too late.”

“We can’t be.” Don murmured. “She wouldn’t have been on the phone to you the first time, would she? If anything, we should get there faster, right?”

“I don’t know.” Jess sighed. “I hope so.”

They could hear echoes of their own siren floating from every corner of the city, but when they pulled up outside Stella’s building, they were the first on the scene.

Don had barely killed the engine when they both jumped out, hands on their weapons.

When they reached the apartment, it was ominously quiet and Don hammered on the door with the palm of his hand. “Stella?”

There was no response.

“Lucky we’ve got cause for concern.” Jess murmured, stepping back. “You wanna do the honours?”

Don didn’t answer, kicking the door in. “NYPD!” He didn’t wait for an explanation, knocking the knife out of Frankie’s hands.

Jess pretended not to notice that he slammed Frankie’s face into the wall a little harder than was really necessary. Her only focus was on the woman lying face-down in her own living room, her hands bound behind her back with plastic ties.

 _Bastard_.

Like most cops, Jess kept a knife on her at all times, as well as her service and back-up weapon. She slid the blade from her pocket and carefully cut through the plastic, snapping a quick picture with her phone. It was a poor substitute for a camera, she knew, but it was better than nothing and she wasn’t about to leave Stella like this until Mac or another of the CSIs got there.

“Shut the fuck up!” Don snarled, as Frankie continued protesting. “Angell, I’m taking him down.”

“Got it.” Jess rolled Stella on to her back and pulled her phone out again, dialling the radio code once more. “This is Detective Angell, the 10-34 is confirmed; situation under control, but I need a bus to the previous address, stat.”

_“10-4. 10-6 copied to all units.”_

Jess hooked her phone back on her belt and straightened. Now that Don had taken Stella’s ex downstairs, the apartment was strangely quiet. She pulled her weapon once more and checked the other rooms, mentally scolding herself for not doing it earlier.

_Just because you’ve got a hunch doesn’t make you infallible._

Thankfully, the rest of the apartment was empty and she returned to Stella’s side, hearing footsteps running up the stairs.

“Mac?” She called.

“It’s me!” He confirmed, appearing in the doorway. He stopped short when he saw Stella, his face draining of colour. “Shit.”

“Yeah, I think that about sums it up.” Jess agreed, wiping some of the blood away from Stella’s face. “She’s alive. I’m not a doctor, but it looks like she just took a hit the wrong way.”

“Just?” Mac repeated sharply. “What happened last time?”

“I don’t know.” Jess sighed. “But if it was just this, Stella would have told me. She alluded to it several times, but … I never asked.”

“You’re like me.” Mac said quietly. “We assume that if people want to talk, they will.”

Jess nodded. “The few times it almost came up … I could see it in her eyes that she was regretting it …” She trailed off, remembering a case that had cut Stella so deeply that she had almost lost sight of the evidence.

A young woman, who had been found shaking, having shot the man who had murdered her husband in their apartment, only to be proven a liar and a cold-blooded killer, having bludgeoned her husband to death and then framed an innocent – dead – man. She could probably have gotten away with it too … had she not managed to commit said murders just as police were responding to the hotel next door, which meant they were on the scene in minutes, leaving her no time to hide the evidence.

_Oh God … what if that’s what happened last time? What if she was left with no option but to shoot him?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft groan from the woman on the floor between them.

“Stella?” Jess called softly, holding up a hand as Mac automatically moved forwards. “Just wait. Trust me.”

Stella’s eyes shot open and she grasped the hand Jess offered her. “Frankie?!”

“He’s gone, hun.” Jess soothed. “On his way to the precinct. And given the mood Don’s in, I don’t envy his chances in interrogation.”

Stella managed a weak smile and accepted Jess’s help to sit up. “Mac?”

“I’m here.” Mac knelt at her other side and took her hand. “Are you alright?”

“Shaken.” Stella admitted quietly. “I’m sorry, Jess, I should have listened to you …”

“Hey,” Jess interrupted gently. “This isn’t your fault, Stell. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more specific.”

“If I’m not allowed to blame myself, you aren’t either.” Stella told her as sternly as she could, which wasn’t very at the moment.

“Ambulance?” Mac asked.

“On its way.” Jess told him.

“Guys, I don’t need …” Stella began.

“You’re getting checked out.” Mac told her firmly. “And then you’re coming to stay with me.”

For a second, it looked like Stella would argue with him, but then she nodded weakly.

“You want me to pack a bag for you?” Jess asked softly.

Stella shook her head. “No. Thanks for the offer, Jess, but I need to do that.”

Jess nodded, understanding that Stella needed to regain some control over the situation. “Alright. I’ll head down and wait for the ambulance then?”

She received two nods and let herself out of the apartment, finally letting the tears fall. She took the elevator down to the first floor, allowing herself time to get herself composed.

By the time she exited the building, the only sign of her distress was the redness of her eyes, which no one would have noticed.

Except Don hadn’t left. He was leaning on his car.

“What are you still doing here?” Jess asked in surprise.

“Have you been crying?” Don responded, his voice concern.

Jess waved him off, brushing his hand away from her face. “I thought you were taking Frankie to the precinct.”

Don scowled. “As much as I’d love to, Jess, I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t take a swing at him. And I want him to go away for this. Now have you been crying?”

Jess wiped her eyes. “I shouldn’t be.” She said in a low voice. “I’m fine. I just wish …”

“You did all you could, Jess.” Don told her softly. “This could have been so much worse. And I’m willing to bet it was the first time. She’s staying somewhere else, right?”

“With Mac.” Jess confirmed.

Don smiled weakly. “Think they’ll finally get off their asses?”

“They didn’t the first time round.” Jess commented. “And it’s hardly the time to be thinking about that.”

Don sighed. “You’re right. Sorry.”

The ambulance pulled up beside them, the EMTs jumping out. “Where to, Detectives?”

“Apartment 12C.” Jess answered. “She’s conscious now, but we’d all feel better if she was checked over.”

“Roger.”

“Roger?” Don repeated as soon as they were out earshot. “Who uses that anymore?”

“Military do.” Jess answered absently. “Quite often. Are we all done here?”

“Think so.” Don confirmed. “You going to the hospital with them?”

Jess shook her head. “No, if it were me, I’d want as few people fussing over me as possible. She’s got her partner, she’ll be alright.” Her phone beeped with a text and she glanced down to see a message from Mac.

_Go ahead. I got it._

“Mac says to go home.” She said.

“Alright.” Don pushed himself away from his car and opened the door for her. “My lady.”

Jess chuckled. “You’re a dork sometimes, you know that.”

“’S why you love me.” Don reminded her, bending down to kiss her.

“Only one of the reasons.” Jess smiled, as he closed her door.

“So what now?” Don asked, when he was sitting in the driver’s seat.

“We go home.” Jess answered. “I’ve got a new appreciation for just how lucky I am.”


	26. Stealing Home

“He did not say that!” Don laughed.

“He did – I nearly died.” Jess held onto his arm to keep from falling – even though the memory was old (for her) it had still brought about another bout of hysterical laughter. “Everyone just stared at him; I swear he didn’t realise for like an hour. When he did …”

Don probably would have laughed harder, but the smile suddenly died from his face and he held up a hand. “You hear that?”

The two had been out for dinner, on a rare public date, and had decided, since the weather was nice, to go for a walk in Central Park, instead of driving straight home. Despite her laughter, Jess was seriously considering shooting whoever invented heels, because her feet were killing her.

Don’s soft question, however, knocked all thoughts of laughter and pain from her mind. “Sounds like someone screaming.” She murmured. “Over there.”

Don pulled his weapon from his holster, which was tucked under his jacket. “Got your piece?”

“Always.” Jess fished it out of her purse. “Come on.”

They didn’t have to venture very far to find a man crouched over something at the base of a large tree.

Something alive, which was struggling and screaming under his hands.

“Hey!” Don yelled. “NYPD, don’t move!”

The man ran and Don took off after him. Jess hurried to the girl’s side. She looked to be in her early twenties, at most, blonde hair and streaked make-up.

Most interesting of all, though, was the girl’s clothes.

She was dressed as a mermaid.

 _“We all thought we were going crazy.”_ Lindsay’s voice floated into her mind. _“She wasn’t a real mermaid though; she was a singer, just come from a little girl’s birthday party.”_ A sigh. _“He didn’t even know her, Jess. She was just there. There was no rape, there was no robbery. He murdered that girl because he could.”_

“Hi.” Jess whispered. “I’m Detective Angell, NYPD. Are you alright?”

“I think so.” The girl responded, her voice slightly hoarse.

Jess rooted in her bag and pulled out her cell-phone and her penlight, dialling 911 as she shone the light over the girl just to check on her.

_“911, what is your emergency?”_

“This is Detective Angell, I need a bus to Central Park, west side, near the docks, as well as a squad car. Victim is alive and conscious.”

_“Right away, Detective.”_

“I’m okay.” The girl insisted weakly.

Jess winced as the penlight picked out red mark’s on the victim’s neck. “What’s your name?”

“Sarah.” She answered softly. “Sarah Butler.”

“I know that accent.” Jess commented. “Montana, right?”

Sarah nodded.

“I’ve got a friend from Montana.” Jess continued, searching in her purse again. “Is there anyone I can call?”

Sarah shook her head. “No, I live alone and I don’t really know anyone. I just moved to New York to become a singer.”

“Is that why you’re dressed as a mermaid?” Jess asked, knowing the answer.

“Yes, I performed at a little girl’s party.” Sarah explained, as sirens became apparent. “It was on her father’s boat and my bag fell overboard with my change of clothes.”

“Did you know that man?” Jess asked, pulling out a chocolate bar. “I knew there was one in there. Here.” She offered her a square. “It’s a bit soft, but you look like you could do with a sugar boost.”

“Thanks.” Sarah accepted with a smile. “No, I’ve never seen him before. He just grabbed me.” Her voice began to shake and Jess grabbed her hand.

“Evening, Detective.” A voice called.

Jess glanced up to see Hawkes cycling towards them. “Evening, Doc. You moonlighting?”

“Only on the odd day.” Hawkes answered. “Night out?”

Jess grinned. “Sort of. Don’s chasing the guy. This is Sarah. Sarah, this is Sheldon Hawkes, former doctor and current CSI.”

“Hi Sarah.” Hawkes smiled at her. “Let’s see.” He tilted her head to the side slightly, gently probing the marks. “Well, you’re gonna have a bad bruise there in a couple days, but nothing too serious. I want to take your blood pressure before you go anywhere though.”

“Where’s that patrol car?” Jess asked.

“On their way.” Hawkes answered, wrapping the cuff around Sarah’s arm.

“Sarah, if Detective Flack and I take you home, do you feel comfortable on your own?” Jess asked gently.

Sarah bit her lip. “Not really.” She admitted in a soft voice. “But I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Jess stood up and moved out of earshot, dialling a familiar number.

_“Monroe.”_

“Hey, Lindsay, are you busy?” Jess asked. “Don and I just interrupted a murder.”

_“You need someone to process?”_

“No, Hawkes is here.”Jess assured her. “It’s the victim. Sarah’s alone in the city, no family, no friends yet, and I don’t want to take her to an empty apartment, after a complete stranger tried to strangle her for no reason.”

 _“I’ve got room.”_ Lindsay said immediately. _“She can stay with me.”_

“Thanks, Linds.” Jess hung up and returned to Sarah’s side, just as Flack appeared with a cuffed suspect.

Immediately, Sarah began to shake, and Jess wrapped an arm around her. “Just to clarify, Sarah, do you recognise this man?”

Sarah nodded. “That’s the man who tried to kill me.”

“Good enough for me.” Don announced, as the uniformed officers arrived. “Get him outta my sight.”

The patrol officers happily dragged him away and Don helped Sarah to her feet. “Need her for anything, Doc?”

“No, Lindsay can photograph and take Trace when you get there.” Hawkes answered.

“How’d you know?” Jess asked with a smile.

Hawkes shrugged. “Lucky guess. I’ll process the scene here and get everything over to the lab.”

“You can have any personal items back when they’ve been processed.” Jess told Sarah gently. “We just need a case that’s not solely based on your word and our accounts.”

Sarah nodded. “I watch CSI, Detective, I get it.”

“Well, everything takes a lot longer than it does on TV.” Hawkes smiled. “But they’re right on everything else.”

Don and Jess bid Hawkes goodbye and led Sarah back to the car, falling into easy – if not somewhat forced – banter.

“I’m telling you, Don, I’m never wearing these shoes again.” Jess stated.

“If they’re that uncomfortable, why wear them in the first place?” Don asked in bewilderment.

“It’s a girl thing.” Jess shrugged. “ _Tu as être souffrir pour être belle._ ”

“And in English?” Don sighed.

“You have to suffer to be beautiful.” Jess translated.

Don rolled her eyes. “But you _are_ beautiful, Jess, even when you’re _not_ suffering.”

“Honey, it’s your job to say that.” Jess sighed with exaggerated exasperation. “Men.”

Sarah gave an unwilling giggle and Jess smiled at her. “I tell you, I love him, but he drives me crazy sometimes.”

“Mom always said that’s the definition of a healthy relationship.” Sarah commented.

“Sounds like your mom knows what she’s talking about.” Jess said, shooting a grin at Don over her head. “Listen, we’re gonna drop you off with Lindsay Monroe, she’s one of our CSIs, says she’s happy for you to stay with her.”

“Thanks.” Sarah whispered. “But I don’t want to be a burden …”

“Trust me, no one’s ever a burden when it comes to Lindsay.” Don assured her, shrugging out of his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. “You look freezing.”

“It’s shock.” Sarah smiled. “But thank you.”

It didn’t take them long to get to Lindsay’s apartment building and Don waited in the car while Jess took Sarah upstairs.

Lindsay answered the door immediately with a warm smile.

“Lindsay, this is Sarah; Sarah, Lindsay.” Jess ran a hand through her hair. “She hasn’t been processed, Linds.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Sarah asked, slightly nervously.

Lindsay gave her a comforting smile. “It means I photograph your bruises, scrape under your nails and take your fingerprints to eliminate your prints from any others we might find at the scene. He didn’t …”

“No.” Sarah shook her head, hearing the unspoken question. She brushed a strand of hair from her face and Jess caught sight of calluses on her hands.

“How did you do that?”

Lindsay smiled knowingly. “Raw-hide braiding.” She held out her own hands, showing the same scars. “Weaving together untanned strips of leather to make reins for horses, or lassos to herd cattle. The friction of the leather cuts you up pretty good.”

Jess raised an eyebrow, slightly impressed.

“You think Danny calls me ‘Montana’ because I’m a 49-ers fan?” Lindsay asked with a grin.

“No, he calls you that because he’s got a crush on you.” Jess sniggered. “I’ll see you in the morning, ladies.”

Lindsay nodded, turning to Sarah. “Come on. Let’s find you some other clothes.”

Sarah handed Don’s jacket to Jess. “Thank you, Detective.”

Jess waved it off. “Just doing our job.” She left Lindsay’s apartment and jogged down to the car.

“Alright?” Don asked, as she got in.

“Me or Sarah?” Jess shot back.

Don shrugged. “Either. Both.”

“Sarah’s shaken, but she’ll be fine.” Jess frowned. “Unlike the last time.”

“He didn’t have any money on him.” Don commented. “So robbery wasn’t the motive.”

“There wasn’t a motive.” Jess’s scowl darkened. “He saw her. He could take her. He did.”

“God, I hate violent men.” Don shook his head in disgust. “What about you?”

Jess smiled. “Don, Sarah died last time. We saved her this time. I’m feeling pretty damn good about myself.”

Don chuckled. “You’re glowing, you know that.”

“I know.” Jess stretched. “You want the rest of that story now?”

“Oh yes.” Don answered. “But not while I’m driving.”

Jess thought back to his reaction the first time. “No, that’s probably a good idea.”

***

“Are you sure she didn’t do it?” Mac asked.

Jess nodded. “Positive, Mac. She might be the second wife, but she was first in everything else. First – legal – wife got jealous. Check across the street; kick-back grazed her hand.”

“Thanks.” Mac disappeared into the lab and Jess wandered over Lindsay and Danny’s shared office, where Lindsay was on the phone.

Aside from the murder of a man who had two wives – who knew about each other, amazingly – it was a very quiet day and she had time to kill.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” Lindsay was saying. “Oh, that’s fantastic! Yeah, you’ll have to tell me all about it. Okay, I’ll see you then. Bye.”

“Who was that?” Jess asked, when she’d hung up.

“Sarah.” Lindsay answered. “She’s got an audition on Broadway. Apparently one of the moms at the birthday party works for a production company. We’re meeting for drinks tonight.”

Jess smiled. “I’m glad I called you.”

“Me too.” Lindsay agreed fervently. “I mean, you and Stella and Aiden are great and I love you all to bits, but … it’s nice to have someone that knows where I’m coming from, not just where I’m going.”

“You two planning on keeping in touch then?” Jess asked.

Lindsay nodded. “Definitely. It scares me, you know, knowing that I nearly met her on an autopsy slab. She’s just so full of life.”

“Everyone is.” Jess squeezed her hand. “Look forward, Linds. She’s okay.”

***

“Mac’s pissed.” Don warned a few weeks later as she reached the morgue door.

“Not surprised.” Jess responded. “I heard you’ve got a dead Marine.”

Don nodded. “You hear anything?”

Jess pulled a face. “Ask me later, Don, I’m a little distracted right now. Have you seen Aiden?”

Don frowned. “It’s her day off. Why, you need to talk to her?”

“No. No, not really.” Jess smiled weakly. _May 25 th. It was today …_ She kept her thoughts to herself, however. “It’s nothing, Don. I’m fine.” She slipped past him into Autopsy, something she usually avoided, but she needed to keep her mind busy today.

But still she couldn’t stop hearing it. One little snippet of that long, drawn-out, way too detailed conversation on her anniversary that insisted on replaying in her head, over and over again.

_“You know what the worst part was, Angell? I fuckin’ asked him! In Autopsy! For the first time in my damn life, I asked if she suffered. And you know what he said?”_

_“What?” Jess asked reluctantly, trying to pry Danny’s hand off her arm._

_“Oh God, yes. She was my best friend, Angell! I coulda lived forever without knowing that!”_

Jess frowned and pushed the thought out of her mind. _You’ve changed things. She’s fine. She’s at home. Safe._

There were two bodies out on the table today. One was Don’s dead Marine, still dressed in dress whites, and she felt a surge of anger, momentarily distracted, at the many medals on his chest.

_The man’s a damn hero and he gets treated like this?_

Her eyes met Mac’s briefly and she shook her head, part in apology, part in commiseration.

The other body was hers, the burnt shell of a woman dragged from a car.

Danny let out a low whistle from behind her. “Damn.” His eyes were fixed on her victim. “Did she suffer?”

_“For the first time in my damn life …”_

Jess froze, her heart stopping as the sights and sounds – and even the smells – of the morgue faded into the background.

Sid gave a sad smile. “Oh God, yes.”


	27. Heroes

“No …” The missing person files in her arms fell to the floor with a clatter, but she took no notice.

“Angell?” Mac asked softly.

“No.” Jess shook her head, stepping backwards. “No … I … I changed it … I did …”

“Jess?” Danny reached out for her, but she moved backwards.

“No, I changed it, Danny! I changed it!” Jess insisted, her eyes fixed on the dead body – _on Aiden_ , a snide voice hissed in her mind. _It didn’t work._

 _Shut up!_ Another voice shouted. _Shut the hell up!_

“Changed what?” Danny asked soothingly.

Jess looked up at him, as though she’d never seen him before. “No.” She shook her head. “I have to go … I have to check something.”

Forcing her legs to move, she ran from the morgue, paying no attention to Lindsay, whom she almost knocked over in the lab, or Don, who called out to her as she reached her car.

Her only focus was on getting to Aiden’s apartment as quickly as possible and she pulled her cell-phone out as she pulled out of the parking lot, dialling Aiden’s number and putting it on speaker.

_“You’ve reached Aiden Burn. I can’t take your call right now, but leave a number and I’ll get back to you.”_

Jess cursed and dialled her cell phone instead.

_“The cell phone you are trying to reach is currently turned off. Please leave a message after the tone.”_

Jess groaned and hung up again. _Alright, slow down._ The second voice soothed. _It’s her day off – she’s turned her phone off. And she could be taking a shower or something. That body can’t be hers._

But still her heart thudded and she pulled up outside Aiden’s building, pausing only to lock her car and flash her badge at a traffic warden. “Official business.”

It wasn’t official, she knew, but she didn’t have the time – or patience – to look for a currently legal space. _It’ll be legal in five minutes anyway._

She took the stairs two at a time and arrived on Aiden’s floor, out of breath, hammering on her door. “Aiden? Aiden, for the love of God, answer the door!”

Silence.

“Come on, I changed things!” Jess whispered, leaning against the wood. “This isn’t fair … I changed things … You can’t be …”

Tears prickled at the back of her eyes and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

It seemed like years ago she had sat in that hospital bed, warning Don that Aiden was going to die in less than a year.

It had been the first thing she had realised that she could change.

Her own actions flashed through her mind. Had she pushed too hard? Had she not pushed enough?

Would they ever forgive her?

Then, amazingly, she heard footsteps.

Jess lifted her head and stared at the door in front of her as it opened, to reveal Aiden, wrapped in a bathrobe. “Jess, it’s my day off; what the hell are you doing?”

Jess stared at her for a second. “Oh thank God.” She whispered, before promptly bursting into tears.

“Jess?” Aiden tugged her inside the apartment and sat her down on the couch, wrapping an arm around her. “It’s alright. What happened?”

On her belt, Jess’s cell-phone rang, but she paid it no heed, sobbing into Aiden’s shoulder, relief crashing down on her like a boulder.

Aiden unhooked it and set it on speaker.

 _“Jess, what the hell’s going on?”_ Don’s voice asked. _“Danny said you …”_

“She’s with me, Don.” Aiden answered. “She’s a bit upset. Actually, that’s an understatement; she’s almost hysterical. What happened?”

 _“We were in autopsy.”_ Danny answered; apparently, they were on speaker too. _“Talking about one of the victims when she seemed to go into shock and then ran out of here like the place was on fire.”_

“That body.” Jess whispered, turning her head so she could be heard. “And that conversation. I’ve heard it before.”

“But Jess, you didn’t join until August.” Aiden frowned, rubbing her back soothingly. “How is that possible?”

“Danny told me about it.” Jess answered. “In exactly a year’s time. He was wasted.”

Aiden stared at her, realisation appearing in her eyes. “It was me, wasn’t it?”

A sharp intake of breath came from the other end of the line.

 _“What?!”_ Danny demanded.

 _“She told us, Dan.”_ Don reminded her in a heavy voice. _“She said that the Pratt case would kill her, remember?”_

 _“Yeah, but I thought she meant figuratively.”_ Danny whispered.

“So did I.” Aiden admitted. “Until she was so insistent that I drop it. And then when Lillian Stanwick was killed … it was blunt force trauma.”

 _“That’s right.”_ Sid confirmed. _“Body is female. And we’re the only people in here, so we can’t be overheard.”_

Jess hadn’t even thought of that.

“You think it was him?” Aiden asked. “DJ Pratt?”

“I don’t know.” Jess admitted. “Anything on the car?”

 _“An ear-print.”_ Lindsay answered. _“And a strange impression in the armrest.”_

Jess stared at the phone. “No way. We are _not_ going to get that lucky twice.”

 _“Lucky?”_ Mac repeated. _“How is this lucky?”_

“She bit him.” Jess answered with a vicious smirk. “That impression is a bite-mark. Match the mark on him to the mark on the car and …”

“We’ve got the son-of-a-bitch.” Aiden finished with satisfaction.

“Oh, and Mac,” Jess added, “that Marine didn’t have any defensive wounds because he didn’t need them. He was too good. He could take out an assailant without getting a scratch himself.”

 _“Then who killed him?”_ Mac asked.

“The abused wife of the man he saved her from.” Jess answered with a sigh. “Don told me about this one. Check the hospitals.”

_“Thanks, Jess.”_

_“Jess, you okay?”_ Don asked, sounding concerned.

“Yeah.” Jess accepted the tissue Aiden handed her and blew her nose. “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

 _“Alright.”_ Don said softly. _“Take your time. Love you.”_

“Love you too.” Jess sniffed slightly as the dial tone sounded.

“Well, at least you two have gotten off your asses.” Aiden said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You okay?”

Jess shook her head. “Do me a favour, Aiden; never turn your phone off again.”

Aiden chuckled. “Sorry. Scare you?”

“Terrified me.” Jess admitted. “It just didn’t seem fair, you know? I saved a complete stranger last week but I couldn’t save you …”

“Well, I’m alive.” Aiden stated. “Shouldn’t be, but I am. So maybe I can be a sound board now.”

“What do you mean?” Jess asked.

“Well, you can’t tell us anything that happened from the future in case it changes something, right?” Aiden asked. “At least in a way you didn’t intend. But anything that happens to me from now on _is_ changing my future, because I’m not supposed to be here. So, in many ways, I’ve got a clean slate.”

“True.” Jess conceded. “But I’d feel better if we cross that bridge after Pratt’s been put away for life.”

Aiden nodded. “Fair enough.”

***

Three days later, Aiden and Jess watched in joint satisfaction as DJ Pratt was led into the precinct in cuffs.

“We got him.” Aiden stated darkly. It was a bittersweet result for her, since the dead woman had turned out to be Regina Moore, one of Pratt’s former victims and a friend of Aiden’s.

“We did.” Jess agreed.

Aiden sighed. “I swear, if I knew Regina would resort to …”

“I know.” Jess squeezed her arm. “Come on. I’ll get you a cup of coffee.”

“One of our apartments.” Aiden elaborated. “I want that conversation.”

Jess chuckled weakly. “Alright.”

When they were both back in her apartment, Jess sent Don a quick text to tell him she was busy that evening and handed Aiden a mug of coffee. “What do you want to know?”

“Whether I can help.” Aiden said simply. “It’s not fair that you shoulder all this by yourself, Jess. And don’t say you’re fine. That little breakdown the other day says otherwise.”

Jess smiled weakly. “I am okay. I just …” She sighed, setting her mug down on the coffee table. “There’s a bomb.”

Aiden stared at her. “Where?”

“I don’t know.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

“Any fatalities?”

“I don’t know.” Jess admitted. “What I do know is that Don was really badly injured.”

“Warn him.” Aiden suggested immediately.

“Can’t do that.” Jess said with regret. “I can’t change his reaction, Aiden. A couple of millimetres to the left would have saved his life. But a couple of millimetres to the right will end it.”

Saying the words out loud made them a lot more real and she shuddered at the thought.

Aiden reached over and took her hand. “But he was alright, right? So if you say nothing, just let it happen …”

“Yeah.” Jess agreed reluctantly. “But have you noticed how Don and I are on the same cases a lot of the time? What if I’m there? Could I walk out of the building, knowing what he was walking in to? Two people have to go in and find the bomb; that’s protocol when there’s a blood trail. So Mac can’t go in alone.”

“Right.” Aiden agreed. “You don’t have a choice, Jess. You can’t go up with them; you know Don would cover you.”

“Which changes things.” Jess sighed. “You’re right.”

Aiden nodded. “I know. It’s just a good thing Don’s so predictable.”

Jess paused, her mug half-way to her lips. “He is predictable.”

“Jess?” Aiden prompted. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing.” Jess answered, taking a sip of coffee.

For some reason, Aiden didn’t believe her.

***

For the next two weeks, Jess remained on alert, half-wishing the bombing would come quickly, half-praying it never would.

Every night, she ensured she and Don spent the night together, even if that day had left them too exhausted to do anything but sleep. She wrapped herself in his embrace, praying that she would never have to leave it.

Each morning, she made a point to kiss him goodbye and tell him that she loved him, lingering longer than she had to, fixing his tie, adjusting his shirt … anything that meant that she could hold on for as long as she could.

If he noticed her increasingly affectionate behaviour, he didn’t mention it and if he found it strange, he never showed it.

Finally, one Sunday morning, it happened.

Jess was standing in a stairwell with Mac, staring down at the wide, unseeing face of a security guard.

“Anything?” Mac prompted.

Jess sighed, shaking her head. “It’s too common, Mac. Stabbed security guard isn’t exactly …” She was cut off by the door to the building opening to allow Don and Lindsay access, letting in streams of music from the street party outside.

_“SOS, please, someone help me, it’s not healthy for me to feel this way …”_

Jess closed her eyes, remembering that song coming onto the radio and triggering a panic attack in her partner.

 _Stay calm, Jess_. Her logical side told her. _It’s a popular song at the moment. As I recall, it played everywhere for weeks._

“Security guard.” Don told Lindsay. “Darwin Judge.”

“We got the call because he missed his scheduled check-in.” Jess added. “And no, I don’t know anything.” _At the moment._

“Stab wound to the stomach.” Mac handed his camera to Lindsay. “No obvious trace of the attacker. But we do have a blood trail.”

Jess followed his gaze. _Sunday block party. That song. Dead security guard. Blood trail. It’s all here. Now if Lindsay …_

“There might be some latent shoe prints.” Lindsay mused. “I’m gonna go back to the truck. Get the electro-static dust-lifter.”

 _Shit._ Jess’s heart began to race.

“We’ll see where these blood drops take us.” Mac stated, as Lindsay left.

“Wait.” Jess heard herself say. She had seconds to decide.

Don turned to look at her. “Remember something?”

Jess looked into his eyes, remembering those eyes filled with tears, pain, fear … She couldn’t do it. “I think Lindsay did mention this.” She shifted her gaze to the door. “Something big’s gonna happen.”

Don frowned. “Maybe I should go with her.”

_“It’s just a good thing Don’s predictable.”_

Jess mentally thanked Aiden for the idea as Mac agreed and stepped over Lindsay’s kit, lying on the floor. As she passed, she squeezed Don’s hand. “Be safe.”

“You too.” Don responded absently, following Lindsay out of the building.

Jess pulled out her penlight and followed Mac up the stairs to the second floor, where the blood drops led to the door to the main building.

“Guard came through this door.” Mac commented. “You remember anything else?”

“He’s not still here.” Jess said confidently. “We can afford to move faster. In fact, we probably should.”

Mac gave her a questioning look, but pushed open the door. The corridor was dark and silent and Jess wondered if Mac could hear her heart thudding in her chest.

“Quiet in here.” Mac murmured.

“Place is a brokerage firm.” Jess said, needing to fill the silence. “No work on Sundays.”

“Must be nice, huh?” Mac quipped.

“Oh, yeah.” Jess agreed, wishing with all her might that she was back in bed. Preferably with Don safely beside her.

They reached the end of the corridor to find a stepladder lying on its side, beside a potted plant that had been knocked over.

“Guard put up a fight.” Jess pulled out her phone. “Hurry up and take a look.”

“Danger was never outside the building, was it?” Mac asked, standing the ladder up. “It was inside.”

Jess didn’t answer, pulling out her phone, dialling Don’s number.

_“Flack.”_

“Hey, it’s me.” Jess whispered, her voice shaking. “I’m sorry.”

 _“For what?”_ Don asked. _“Jess, what’s going on? Everything’s clear out here.”_

“I love you.” Jess told him urgently. “You know that, right?”

 _“Yeah, of course. And I love you too.”_ Don sounded worried. _“Jess, what the hell’s going on?”_

Jess saw Mac stiffen and pulled the fire alarm. “Get everyone away from the building, we have a bomb.”

“No radios!” Mac yelled so Don could hear him. “Call Central.”

“I’m on it.” Jess assured both of them. “Love you, gotta go.”

***

“Jess! Jess!”

Lindsay stopped in her tracks, seeing Don’s pale face. “What’s wrong?”

Don cursed and hung up, pulling his badge off his belt and holding it up. “NYPD! Everyone get away from the building down the street! Move, now!”

“Flack, what’s going on?!” Lindsay demanded, holding up her own badge as well and ushering people in the opposite direction.

“10-33.” Don said grimly. “She knew.”

Lindsay’s blood froze in her veins and she doubled her shouts. “Come on, this way, down the street! Let’s move, come on!”

It was doubtful anyone on the street knew that the code ‘10-33’ was police-speak for ‘explosive device’, but it didn’t matter; two cops warning people away from a building was enough to make anyone nervous, as was the alarm emanating from said building and numerous people spilling from it.

Suddenly the half of the conversation Lindsay had overheard made sense and she sent a silent prayer up that Mac and Jess would be okay.

***

“Clear.” Mac stated, rattling a locked door.

“Clear.” Jess echoed, relief flooding through her. They’d done it. The building was empty and there’d been no explosion.

Yet.

“Let’s go.” Mac told her.

Jess nodded, but they’d only just reached the door to the stairwell when …

“Hey, what’s going on?”

They both turned to see a young man staring at them, wearing thick noise-cancelling headphones.

 _I officially hate those things._ “Hey, get the hell outta here!” Jess yelled at him, doubling back.

***

Out on the street a sort of calm seemed to fall as everyone seemed to think, as one, ‘Well, if this is what a terrorist attack feels like, it’s not nearly as scary as I thought it would be’.

“Come on …” Don whispered, as he and Lindsay paused, staring back at the building. “You see them?”

“No!” Lindsay answered, her voice shaking as she scanned the building for signs of life.

Then the air exploded.


	28. Charge Of This Post

In the aftermath of the explosion, silence reigned for a few seconds while everyone digested what had just happened.

Then the screaming started.

Lindsay struggled to her feet, feeling Don grab her arm. Warm liquid trickled down her forehead and she wiped it away. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Don grasped her face gently, examining the cut. “Doesn’t look too bad. Hurt anywhere else?”

“No.” Lindsay stared at the building. The second and third floor windows were shattered over the ground, but there were no bodies in the No Man’s Land in between. “Where are they?”

“I don’t know.” Don answered in a jerky voice. “Start calling. I’m gonna …” He jerked his head over his shoulder at the people behind them and she nodded.

Calling got her nowhere and she could only conclude that they were still inside.

“Hey, Montana!”

Lindsay spun around, never so grateful to hear that stupid nickname. “Danny!”

Danny dropped his kit at her feet and grabbed her shoulders. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lindsay turned to Stella. “Mac and Jess are inside.”

“Where’s Don?” Aiden asked.

Lindsay pointed over to where he was helping a woman to an ambulance. “Trying not to think about it.”

“Linds, you’re hurt.” Danny touched her forehead, wiping away the blood that was still trickling from the cut.

“It’s fine.” Lindsay brushed it off. “It just went off …”

“Yeah, we know, we heard the 10-33.” Stella raised her voice. “Hey, guys, there’s at least two NYPD cops in there; there may be other survivors; let’s go!”

“I’m gonna set up a command post.” Hawkes told her. “Is radio safe?”

“If there was another charge waiting for a radio signal, it would’ve gone off by now.” Stella shrugged.

“Gotcha.” Hawkes jogged after the ESUs. “Hey, I’m right behind you!”

“We’ll get that looked at.” Danny steered Lindsay over to the EMTs, ignoring her protests.

“Flack!” Stella called, waving him over. “Did Jess have any idea?” She asked in an undertone.

“Well, if she did, she didn’t tell me.” Don frowned.

“She did.” Aiden sighed. “She told me. I thought she was gonna let it lie!” She protested. “She said Don nearly died last time and she couldn’t figure out how to stop it without risking making it worse! She … Why did you leave?” She asked Don suddenly.

“She said that Lindsay had told her about it.” Don answered, taken aback by the change of pace. “I just assumed that the danger was out here.”

“You’re predictable.” Aiden said quietly, as if to herself. “You’re … She played you, Don! She knew you’d follow Lindsay. She deliberately set it up so she was in there and not you.”

“She …” Don span around to stare at the building as Stella left to speak to DHS before they could overhear. “She’d better be okay, Aiden. Or I’m going to shoot her myself.”

***

As soon as she had taken three steps towards the stupid kid, everything had fallen back into place and she had yelled for him to get down, diving to the side a split-second before the bomb went off.

Now, as the dust in the air began to settle, Jess chanced movement. Rubble shifted on top of her, but there was no serious pain, aside from a sharp stinging on her right thigh.

She looked down to see a shard of glass protruding from her jeans and groaned. _Oh, that’s gonna hurt when they get it out._

Still, it was nowhere near as bad as the injury Don had sustained and that made this a success in her book.

“Jess!” Mac called.

“Over here.” Jess responded. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Mac answered. “So’s the other guy.”

“Good.” Jess bit back a whimper of pain as she sat up. “That means I can shoot him later.”

“I wouldn’t blame you, Detective.” The other guy called over. “I’m just glad we’re all okay.”

“I was kidding.” Jess rolled her eyes. “Just get rid of those damn headphones.”

“Consider them gone.”

“Jess, can you move?” Mac asked.

“Erm, I can.” Jess looked down. “Not sure if I should.”

“Stay here.” Mac’s voice said, quieter this time. There was a soft noise and the rubble shifted some more, then Mac appeared in front of her. “That doesn’t look good.”

“It was worse the first time.” Jess told him, her voice low. “Don nearly died.”

“That why you’re here and not him.” Mac shrugged his shirt off and carefully bandaged her leg, taking care not to move the glass. “You know he’s gonna be mad at you.”

Jess shrugged. “I’d rather have him mad at me than in a coma, Mac. Or worse. You know the reason I was hired in the first place was to replace him. Just remind him, when they’ve carted me off, that I warned him that there’d come a time when he’d question my actions and he promised to trust me.”

“I doubt it’s a case of not trusting, Jess.” Mac said grimly. “He’ll be mad because he loves you. You could have died.”

“I know.” Jess whispered. “But rather me than him.”

***

“Got another air pocket!” One of the ESUs called.

Don sprinted to his side. “Jess! Jess, can you hear me?”

“Mac?” Danny called, appearing a second later. “Mac, you in there?!”

“Yeah, we’re here!” Mac called back. “Everyone’s fine.”

Don sagged in relief and Danny seized him under the arm to keep him from collapsing.

“We’re gonna need a medic though.” Mac added.

“Mac, I’m fine.” Jess protested.

“You are not walking out on that leg, Angell.” Mac told her.

“But …”

“Jessica, stop being so damn stubborn and take the medic.” Don barked, brushing Danny’s arm away.

“Fine.” Jess agreed after a reluctant pause. “But it’s really not that bad.”

“It better not be.” Don muttered, waving an EMT over. “You qualified to go in there?”

“Yes, sir.” The technician assured him, taking the helmet one of the ESU offered her.

Danny and Don stepped back to let her through and waited. After a nerve-wracking few seconds, Mac emerged, holding a blood-stained cloth to his shoulder.

“It’s a glass shard,” he explained, seeing Don’s concern in his eyes. “She’ll be fine.”

“I’m gonna need a stretcher.” The technician called out. “No, Detective, you’re not putting any weight on that leg.”

With a sigh, Mac waved another technician over. “Before you say anything to her, Don, everything she did was because she loves you.”

“I know.” Don admitted. “But that doesn’t change the fact that she scared the shit outta me.”

“Maybe.” Mac conceded. “But you got her back. Not all of us are that lucky. She also said to remind you that she warned you.”

““There’ll come a time when you question my actions and my motives.”” Don remembered with a wry smile. “Yeah, she did. Just wish she’d been more …” He cut himself off with a curse as the stretcher came through.

Jess may have been conscious and smiling, but that didn’t detract from the paleness of her face, or the large shard of glass sticking out of her leg.

“Flesh wound.” She assured him. “I’m fine.”

Don crossed his arms. “We’ll see about that. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Jess grimaced. “Alright.”

Don turned to Danny as they carried her to a waiting ambulance. “That woman’s gonna be the death of me.”

***

“Don?” Aiden asked quietly.

Don was pacing the length of the corridor, and had been since they arrived.

“Don?” Aiden tried again when she got no response. “She’s gonna be fine.”

“It should be me in there, Aiden.” Don muttered. “It should have been me.”

“Right.” Aiden rolled her eyes. “She should be the one pacing because you’re on the brink of death, rather than us sitting here calmly because we know she’ll be fine.”

Don gave her a dirty look and fell into one of the plastic chairs in the waiting room.

Aiden exchanged a glance with Danny and he nodded, standing up. “C’mon, Montana. Let’s get some coffee. We can take some back to the lab for Mac and Stella.”

“Sure.” Lindsay agreed quietly, leaving quickly.

Aiden watched her go, concerned, and gave Danny another loaded look. She and Danny had worked together for so long that they no longer needed words – she wasn’t sure they ever had – a look said it all.

When Lindsay had joined the team, only Aiden picked up on the difference in Danny; she was fully aware of how much he liked her and she approved whole-heartedly.

Just as their first look had decided that Aiden would deal with Don, their second told Danny to look after Lindsay, who was obviously more shaken by the day’s events than she was letting on.

Aiden moved to sit next to Don, taking his hand. “She’s alright.” She repeated quietly.

“I love her so much, Aiden.” Don whispered. “I can’t lose her.”

“You’re not going to.” Aiden said quietly, slightly taken aback by this confirmation. She knew that Jess and Don had started dating and she knew how Jess felt … but she had no idea that Don felt that strongly as well.

“It’s only been a few months.” Don murmured, looking up to meet her eyes. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Is that normal?”

“I don’t know.” Aiden admitted, stunned by the emotion in his eyes. However much he was putting into words, there seemed to be a whole other depth to his feelings that he couldn’t vocalise. “I’ve never been in love. Maybe. When you meet the right person.”

Don smiled weakly. “Well, I’ve definitely met the right person. That’s why I’m worrying.”

***

“You okay?” Danny asked quietly, following her out of the ward.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.” She frowned. “Is this the way we came in?”

Danny stopped quickly, not quite avoiding a collision as she turned to face him. “Oh, sorry. Did I …?”

“No.” Lindsay flinched back slightly as his thumb brushed against the cut on her forehead. “It’s fine.”

Danny didn’t seem to be listening, brushing the hair out of her face to take a closer look. “You know what? You should put something on that.”

“Back home they say it’s better just to let it breathe.” Lindsay murmured, as he slowly pulled his hand away. He gazed at her, with such concern and affection in his eyes, that she finally let herself believe what Jess had been telling her since she arrived in New York.

_He cares about you. A lot._

She wasn’t sure who moved first, but her lips were suddenly pressed against his in a soft gentle kiss that she never wanted to end.

She knew she probably should, though, any longer and she couldn’t really pass it off as comfort. For either of them.

But as she threatened to pull away, he slipped an arm around her waist, and wove his fingers into her hair, anchoring her to him.

Lindsay’s hand slid over his shoulder to rest on the back of his neck and she pressed against him slightly, as they reluctantly parted, their need for oxygen greater (just) than their need for each other.

“They do that back home too?” Danny asked breathlessly.

“Never like that.” Lindsay admitted shyly. “Erm, what did that …?”

“Mean?” Danny finished, cupping her face. “Depends why you kissed me.”

 _Guess that answers my question._ Lindsay raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“Well, if it was a comfort thing, then nothing.” Danny said carefully. “Whereas if it was because you like me as much as I like you, then I’ll pick you up at eight.”

Lindsay observed him with narrowed eyes for a few minutes, until he shifted, visibly nervous, and then she broke into a smile. “Where are we going?”

***

A few hours later, Jess limped into her apartment with Don behind her, maintaining a stony silence. He hadn’t said a word since he’d arrived at the hospital and she followed his example, even when she’d been discharged and she’d driven him home.

Without a word, he removed his weapon and placed it in his gun-safe, holding out a hand for hers. Jess handed it over silently, remembering the evening after they’d caught Henry Darius.

But even then he hadn’t been this quiet, and it was starting to scare her.

He walked into her bedroom and she followed him, watching as he undid his tie, tossing it onto a chair, and loosened his cuffs, turning to face her. “Why?”

Jess didn’t answer.

“It’s a simple question, Jessica.” Don prompted.

“I don’t have a simple answer.” Jess whispered.

“Then give me a complicated one.” Don said sharply. “Anything that explains why you seem to have a fucking death wish! Do you have any idea how scared I was?! Do you even care?!”

Jess stiffened, anger flashing in her eyes. “Don’t you dare!” She hissed. “Don’t you dare accuse me of not caring about you!”

Don sighed. “I’m sorry, Jess; that was outta line. I know you care, of course I do, I just …” He sank onto her bed, rubbing his eyes. “I was terrified, Jess.”

Jess ran a hand through her hair, her body relaxing all at once. “Don, when I met you, you were lying in a hospital bed. You know that. I told you that. You nearly died.”

“But I didn’t!” Don protested. “Why not just let it happen? Aiden said you were going to.”

“Because I got the opportunity to change it.” Jess explained. “Don, I know you were okay and that I could have walked out of that building knowing that everything should be alright eventually. But do you really think you got blown up, recovered physically and that was it?”

“Well, I kinda assumed …” Don admitted.

“Well it wasn’t.” Jess stated bluntly. “Before we even became partners, I found myself locked in the locker room trying to convince you we weren’t in a building that was about to blow up. A year later, you broke down in tears in my arms – only after biting my head off for a month, I might add. And when we started dating, every time my hand even inched towards your abdomen, you stopped me. When you tell me you don’t have a problem with my scar and that you’re grateful for it because it means I’m still here, I’m not laughing because I don’t believe it. I’m laughing because you’re a damn hypocrite – you flinched every time I so much as glanced at yours! The phone that detonated the bomb hit you, Don, it blew your stomach apart and Mac had to perform emergency surgery with a fucking shoe string of all things!”

Everything Jess had been bottling up, every fear she’d had, every worry that had passed through her mind, came pouring out of her mouth without reservation.

Don was staring at her in shock, but she wasn’t paying attention again.

“The fact that you would have been thinking about me outside that building as well as Lindsay could have moved your position in relation to that bomb by even a millimetre and that’s all it came down to, Don. That one millimetre could have _killed_ you and I’m sorry if I wasn’t prepared to take that chance!”

Slightly breathless now, Jess crossed the room to her dresser and pulled her shirt off, chancing a glance at her reflection.

The only injury may have been to her thigh, but her upper body was littered with cuts and bruises. “Dammit.”

Don’s hand brushed against her lower back and she stiffened involuntarily. His hand withdrew. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Jess turned to face him. “You just startled me, that’s all.”

Don sighed. “It should have been me, Jess.”

Jess shook her head. “No. It shouldn’t. Look, Don, it’s done. Can you just drop it, even if you don’t understand?”

Don kissed her forehead. “I understand, Jess.” He whispered. “I guess I’ve just got survivors’ guilt.”

“Well, we both survived.” Jess murmured. “I wasn’t sure we would …”

“That’s why you’ve been so affectionate lately.” Don realised. “You didn’t …”

“I didn’t know when it was going to happen.” Jess admitted. “Or if I would be there or not. If I wasn’t, I didn’t want you to doubt that I loved you. You know, when you realised that I’d let you get blown up.”

“And if you were?” Don asked.

Jess smiled sadly. “You remember when we met? In the hospital when I was bordering on hysterical?”

“How could I forget?” Don chuckled. “You turned my world upside down, Jess. Hard to believe it hasn’t even been a year yet.”

“Well, before I fell back, I woke up.” Jess told him. “In the hospital. And I could hear you and Lindsay talking …”

“We thought you were dead.” Don remembered. “You told me that in hospital, part of your ‘statement’.”

“You know what you said?” Jess asked quietly. “You said, “I love her, Lindsay, and now she’ll never know. And I’ll never know if she felt the same way.” You never knew, Don. We were best friends for two years, dated for ten months. I told you things I would never dream of telling anyone else. And I couldn’t say three words. When I realised that I could change things, I promised myself that I wouldn’t let that happen again.”

Don kissed her, cupping her face in his hands. “I know, sweetheart. I know you love me and I’ll never doubt you. But I’d rather have you here and alive, if you don’t mind, so if you could just stop the heroics?”

Jess smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”


	29. Meetings

“This is ridiculous.” Jess muttered. “It’s one tiny injury; I shouldn’t need sick leave.”

Don chuckled. “Sorry, sweetheart, but that’s not my call. I know you can still do your job, but the doctor has to sign you off for active duty again.”

Jess sighed. “I don’t know why I’m complaining. The first time, you were still in a coma.”

She was sprawled across her bed, lazily watching him deposit his gun in her lock-box. Her leg was now – as far as she was concerned – as good as new, although (and it pained her to admit it) it still twinged every now and then.

It had been six weeks since the bombings and Jess was counting the days until déjà vu would kick in. It wouldn’t be long now.

Don collapsed next to her and, with a great effort, she rolled over, nestling into his side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

She stretched and flinched as the scar on her thigh protested.

“I saw that, Detective.” Don smirked into her hair. “Apparently the doctor knows what he’s talking about.”

Jess sighed. “But Don, I’m _bored_.”

“Bored, and sound like a three-year-old.” Don commented.

Jess tried to glare at him, but failed, sniggering instead. “Yeah, I know.” She sighed again, settling into a more comfortable position. “Don … don’t take this the wrong way, but … when was the last time you went back to your apartment?”

“Before the bomb.” Don answered, almost lazily. “Why?”

“Just wondering.” Jess shrugged. “You didn’t have milk in the fridge, right?”

“No, Detective.” Don chuckled. “I got rid of it.” He ran a hand through her hair. “I’m having dinner with my parents tomorrow.”

“You always do.” Jess said, slightly confused as to why he was telling her that.

“They want to meet you.” Don told her.

Jess shifted so she was propped up on her elbows. “Are you sure you want them to meet me?”

“Of course.” Don answered easily. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, one of the things you and I always agreed on was the fact that our fathers would both go ballistic if they found out we were dating our partners.” Jess said quietly.

“Yeah, but my dad’s been ready for this for the last year.” Don shrugged. “I’ve told him everything, bar the time-travel thing. The first time I mentioned your name, he said “You’re falling in love with her, aren’t you?” Then “don’t do anything stupid and don’t get her pregnant until you’re both ready”.”

Jess sniggered. “Sounds like something my dad would say. We’ll have to tell them that I’m from the future. What if they think I’m crazy?”

“Take Mom’s corned beef recipe.” Don suggested. “You have it written down?”

“No, but I can write it down.” Jess answered. “You really think that’ll work?”

“Jess, not even I know Mom’s recipe.” Don told her. “It’ll work.”

***

“Don, what if they hate me?” Jess whispered as they approached the house.

Don took her hand and kissed her forehead. “Sweetheart, it’s not possible to hate you.”

“But what if …?” Jess began.

“No.” Don knocked on the door. “Stop it. You’ve got four older brothers I’ve got to contend with; I’m the only one that’s allowed to worry.”

Jess chuckled. “Fair enough.”

The door opened, revealing a dark-haired woman with soft green eyes. Aside from that little detail, it was obvious which side of the family Don got his looks from – unlike Jess, who looked nothing like her mother’s side of the family – and when she spoke, Jess recognised her voice instantly from that one phone call.

“Donnie!”

Don dropped her hand and embraced his mother, kissing her cheek. “Hi Mom. Mom, this is Jessica Angell. Jess, this is my mom.”

Jess offered her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Flack.”

Katherine Flack took her hand and pulled her into a hug. “Call me Katherine, dear. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Good things, I hope.” Jess commented, feeling a lot less nervous.

“Oh yes.” Katherine assured her. “Donald! Don’s here!”

The scene was repeated again with Don’s father (only without the hugging this time) and then Katherine ushered them in to the dining room for a Sunday dinner of roast beef, roast potatoes and vegetables.

They passed half an hour with small talk, and then the difficult question came.

“You know, Don, you’ve never really told us how you and Jess met.”

Don and Jess exchanged a loaded glance and he cleared his throat. “That’s because it’s a very bizarre story. I don’t know if you remember, but about a year ago a Jersey officer was in a really bad car accident.”

“I do remember that.” Donald said slowly. “Her family was told she was killed, but it turned out she’d dragged herself free from the wreckage with amnesia and was found outside a hospital in New York.” His face cleared. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“Well, not exactly.” Jess admitted. “This is where it gets bizarre.”

“She was the officer in the car.” Don confirmed. “And she was found outside a hospital. But suffering from gunshot wounds.”

“When were you shot?” Katherine asked.

Jess took a deep breath, knowing that this was the moment of truth. “November 10th 2009.”

There was a beat of silence in which Donald and Katherine just stared at her.

Don nudged her with his shoulder. “Pay up.”

Jess chuckled. “Alright.” She put her fork down and rooted in her pocket, pulling out a crumpled five-dollar bill.

“I told her you’d go into shock.” Don explained smugly, folding it and placing it in his own pocket. “She said you’d immediately pronounce her insane. I thought she was, you know. Until the doctor gave me the photograph she’d been holding when they found her. We should have brought that with us.” He added, addressing Jess instead of his parents this time.

“It’s hardly proof, Don.” Jess commented. “Although your hair is shorter in that picture.”

“Alright, then give them proof.” Don suggested.

Jess sighed. “The first time round, Don and I met in August of this year. He’d been caught in a bomb blast and nearly died and I was hired to replace him, ironically enough. We became partners and best friends and, after about a year and a half, he had a case that affected him so badly, he swore he’d never eat again. I offered to make dinner, to see if I could sort it out, but I had no idea what to cook.”

“Apparently,” Don continued, “I had borrowed her phone to call you, so she checked her history and asked Mom for advice.”

Jess pulled the recipe out of her pocket and handed it to Katherine. “Don hasn’t seen it. I know you haven’t told him yet.”

Katherine opened it and read it through carefully, before looking at Jess with obvious surprise. “This is my family’s secret recipe.”

“I know.” Jess turned to Don. “You know, we never considered the possibility that they might think I’m some strange stalker and not actually from the future.”

“Well, too late to turn back now.” Don grasped her hand and squeezed it. “As far as I know, Mom doesn’t have it written down anywhere.”

“I know.” Jess smiled. “That’s why I’m going to burn it when I get home before you can look at it. Apparently you had to swear in blood and promise your first-born before you got it.”

Katherine folded the recipe up again and handed it back, taking Jess’s free hand. “I believe you, dear.”

“Thank God.” Jess sighed. “Because this would all be really awkward if you didn’t.”

***

“Told you they’d love you.” Don said smugly that evening.

“Yeah, I know.” Jess agreed sleepily. “You’re a genius.”

“I am.” Don grinned, pulling her into his arms. “And our bet wasn’t just for five bucks, as I remember.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna have to take an IOU, Don; I’m exhausted.”

Don mock-pouted, but settled down next to her, conceding her point. “Fine. But tomorrow night, you’re mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently on hiatus, both here and at FFNet. Hopefully, I'll get inspiration back soon, but we'll have to see.


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